


And None Of It Seems To Matter

by Kablob, mylordshesacactus



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Bisexual Character, Developing Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Interspecies Relationship(s), No Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-06 13:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 70,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4223478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kablob/pseuds/Kablob, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylordshesacactus/pseuds/mylordshesacactus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There's going to be an attack on the Temple. Tomorrow, at eleven hundred hours. A bomb in the hangar bay."</p><p>Barriss Offee had no idea what fate she averted for herself or her friend Ahsoka Tano when she stopped her planned attack on the Jedi Temple before it started. But her actions will still have far-reaching consequences—for both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act I Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This project started out as two nerds throwing meta and what-ifs at the wall to see what would stick. And then...well. One of the what-ifs accidentally sparked a complex single-point divergence AU. Ah, Star Wars. Essentially: What would have happened if, instead of being half a galaxy away embroiled in an increasingly brutal war, Luminara was at the Temple when Barriss started to fall--and thus, Padawan Offee had access to her master when she most needed her?
> 
> TW: Mentions of a planned bombing and the explosive nanodroids from the canon Sabotage arc; needles; depression, and a resulting carelessness in personal safety that may be reminiscent of self-harm; alcohol.

 

There was nothing alarming about the door buzzer going off.

If anything, judging by the amusement on Obi-Wan’s face, they really should have seen it coming. Luminara shook her head fondly, leaning over to set the bottle of Alderaanian wine they had been sharing on a low table. She’d allowed herself the delusion that her unexpected transfer back from the front—one of Skywalker’s reckless plans had come through, they no longer had a need for the number of senior generals in the area, and she was the only one with a Padawan waiting for her—would allow her perhaps an entire evening to herself.

“One moment, Barriss,” she called over her shoulder. She shared a wry look with her visitor.

Obi-Wan chuckled slightly as she stretched. “Right on schedule,” he began, and was interrupted by an impatient twist in the Force that opened the door before either of them could. Luminara looked up in shock; coming from _Barriss_ of all people it was an unprecedented breach of etiquette. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, was unfazed. “Ah. Padawan Offee. What can we do for—”

“Master,” Barriss said, talking right over him. “I need to speak with you.”

Luminara frowned. “Barriss…”

“Now,” her Padawan said, and there was a frantic note under it that she didn’t like at all. Barriss shot a quick glance at Obi-Wan before adding: “Alone. _Please_.”

There was something in that look that Luminara liked even less than Barriss’ tone. She snuck a quick glance at the chrono and found that it was later than she’d thought, just barely before midnight. No, she didn’t like what this was adding up to at all. A hundred terrible scenarios raced through her mind, but Luminara dismissed them all before continuing. Barriss would tell her what was wrong if she was given the time.

Thankfully, Obi-Wan seemed to have reached the same conclusion.

“I can see I’m not needed,” he said, standing. Luminara was not so entirely focused on her Padawan that she failed to notice he kept the glass of wine. Still, the look he gave Barriss was one of deep concern. “Luminara,” he added—and that was unusual as well, he generally defaulted to formality around Barriss simply because it seemed to make her more comfortable. “If there’s anything I can do…”

“We shall let you know, Master Kenobi,” Luminara said quietly, with a grateful nod to her friend as he bowed to Barriss and let himself out.

The door slid shut behind him, and Barriss flinched. She swallowed, clenched and then unclenched her fists, and gave Luminara a blank stare, seemingly unsure of how to start. Her presence in the Force felt cold—a tangle of paralyzing fear.

After several long, awkward moments of this, Luminara gestured to a nearby cushion. “Padawan,” she said carefully. “Sit down.”

It jolted her out of her apparent terrorized death-spiral, at least. Barriss’ fingers scrabbled over her lightsaber hilt as she unclipped the weapon, hands visibly trembling. She turned the hilt so the emitter was facing her chest and all but shoved it into Luminara’s hands.

“Barriss!” she exclaimed as she fumbled to keep the lightsaber from falling to the floor. “What has gotten into you?!”

Her Padawan opened her mouth and began speaking so rapidly that Luminara only caught about one word in five. “Sorry” turned up a lot, along with “forgive” and “please”.

“Barriss,” Luminara said, and when she didn’t stop rambling Luminara placed the lightsaber on a nearby end table, then stepped forward and put her hands on Barriss’ shoulders. “Barriss,” she repeated. “You must calm yourself.”

Barriss bit down on her words mid-sentence. She was all but hyperventilating, and when Luminara looked into her eyes she saw pure terror staring back at her. She had never seen Barriss this afraid, never, not even when she had found her lost behind enemy lines at the First Battle of Geonosis. Her Padawan was not easily frightened, and for something to have put her in a state like this…

Just when Luminara’s worry was beginning to build into outright fear for her apprentice, Barriss managed to close her eyes and take a long, shuddering breath. Luminara could feel her forcing herself to relax, to count the moments between breaths until she could think again. Unclenching her fists from her side, Barriss let herself fall—and Luminara found herself with her Padawan kneeling, head bowed and still shaking, at her feet.

“Master,” Barriss said again, less panicked this time but still radiating guilt and fear in the Force. “I’m sorry.”

 _Oh Barriss, what have you done?_ Luminara knelt to put them at the same level. “Barriss, you must tell me what has happened.”

Barriss’ hands were pressed flat against the floor at her sides; one clenched again reflexively as her shoulders tightened. Slowly, her voice hitching on every other word, she managed to force out the words.

“There’s going to be an attack on the Temple,” she told the floor. Luminara’s entire body froze; even her breathing stopped for a moment. “Tomorrow, at eleven hundred hours. A bomb in the hangar bay.”

Luminara’s eyes were so wide they felt like they were going to fall out.

“Padawan.” She was relieved that her voice still came out even. “How do you know this?”

_And why are you afraid to tell me?_

“Because...” Barriss started, choking on her own voice. The spike of fear told Luminara the answer before she even said it, but it was so absurd that her mind instantly rejected it as a possibility.

Barriss’ next words were so faint that they were barely audible.

“I did it.”

Luminara stared at her, uncomprehending.

Barriss folded her hands in her lap, worrying anxiously at the fabric. “I planned it,” she whispered. “The—the bomb. I told her how to plant the explosives and I gave her the resources, she wants to, because of what the Jedi are doing—but I was wrong. I don’t want anyone else to die. That’s not what…” She swallowed, knuckles white as they clutched at her skirt, and her voice broke as she whimpered, “You made me _better_ than...”

There was a strange buzzing noise in Luminara’s ears and she felt a little dizzy, but she managed to zero in on the few pieces of information she had that made any sort of sense.

“Has the bomb been planted already?” she asked, and Barriss flinched, again, at the sudden professional coolness in her voice before shaking her head. “How will it be smuggled into the Temple?”

“Not _it_ ,” Barriss corrected faintly. “He. The bomb is…is a person. A maintenance foreman. Jackar Bowmani. His wife was my contact. If he’s pulled aside quietly when he reports for his shift, the nanodroids can be deactivated.”

“Nanodroids.”

“Ingested,” Barriss breathed. “In his bloodstream. Undetectable to standard security scanners. Master, I—”

What she had planned to say died in her throat as she finally darted a glance up at Luminara. Whatever her Padawan saw in her face made her hug herself as her mouth worked around an explanation that refused to form into words.

 _Padawan_ …

Luminara realized she was shaking her head slowly, but couldn’t be bothered to stop. “Barriss,” she breathed. “ _Why?_ ”

For a moment, the briefest possible moment, life flickered in Barriss’ eyes again; then it was gone, buried in misery.

“Because.” She blinked rapidly; her whole body was trembling now. “Because I—Master, _I can’t do this anymore!_ ” It was like opening a floodgate. While Luminara stared blankly at her in a desperate attempt to make sense of how this could have happened, how it could have happened without her ever seeing it, Barriss was openly crying. “And I thought—if the Council saw that the people hate us so much—maybe things would change. I’m not a soldier, I was always proud to fight at your side but this is different, Master, you weren’t _on_ Umbara, you weren’t there, that was _murder_ and I can’t keep killing, I _can’t—_ if this is what it means to be a Jedi then I don’t want it anymore!”

There had been very few moments in Luminara’s life in which she could so clearly see every failure, every mistake she had ever made, laid out neatly in front of her. What she wouldn’t have given to avoid the necessity of this one.

Barriss seemed past words, now; her shoulders were heaving, arms folded tightly against her stomach and bent almost double under the weight of the months and years of pain Luminara had never realized she was carrying. Occasionally she managed to gasp out a broken apology.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do and you weren’t _here_ , I just wanted it to stop, they were going to send me out again and I _can’t_ , I hate it, I hate the killing, I hate the violence, I hate—myself—I’m sorry, I’m _sorry_ …”

In a daze, Luminara still managed to place what she hoped was a comforting hand on Barriss’ shoulder.

“Hush, Padawan,” she murmured. She reached out for her comlink; after a brief stutter in the Force, it leapt to her hand. She took a moment to collect herself and make absolutely certain holo was _off_ before tapping the call button.

“ _Luminara. Is everything all right up there? If Anakin’s been bothering her again, I’m sure I can keep them out of each other’s way._ ”

Luminara let her hand fall from Barriss’ shoulder to run a gentle thumb over the back of her fingers as she struggled to breathe.

“That won’t be necessary, Master Kenobi,” she said quietly.

There was a pause.

“ _What do you need?_ ” Thank the Force for Obi-Wan Kenobi. “ _If someone’s hurt her—_ ”

“Obi-Wan.” Luminara could feel her control slipping, and she intended to do her duty before she let that happen. “I need you to take a hangar bay maintenance worker named Jackar Bowmani and his wife into custody. Quietly, if possible. They’re involved in a plot to attack the Temple.” Very carefully, without making eye contact with Barriss, she added, “Bowmani may already have nanodroid explosives in his bloodstream. Be cautious.”

“ _I’m not even going to ask._ ”

“I wish you would,” she replied weakly. “I don’t fully understand it myself. But if you were able to speak to Barriss once Bowmani and his wife are secure, I would be grateful.” Kinder, that way, than forcing her to give her initial confession to the full Council.

“ _Of course. I’ll wake Cody. Maybe he’ll stop complaining about being bored. And, Luminara—I’m sorry. For...whatever’s happened. She’s stronger than you realize. She’ll get through this._ ”

Barriss shivered. Luminara swallowed hard against the sudden lump in her throat.

“...Thank you, Master Kenobi.” She cut the call short before she had a chance to find out if he intended to respond.

She hit the second button—a silent call, this time, a signal rather than a conversation—before she lost her nerve. Her fingers shook as she set the comlink aside and turned her attention back to her Padawan.

The storm seemed to have passed. Barriss’ hands were folded quietly against her knees, she was sitting up again, and while she was still crying they were quiet tears now, few and far between. Her gaze was still lowered in submission as she knelt before her master, but some of the pain had gone. It was sadness, now; regret, and grief, but mostly she looked tired. She didn’t react when Luminara stood except to bow her head further.

Luminara was listening in the Force, wanted to time this properly—but she hesitated as she turned toward the door and that cold knot of confusion and sorrow in Barriss’ presence struck her again. She couldn’t just leave her like that.

Barriss still barely seemed to notice as Luminara filled a glass of cold water and set it down in front of her; but after a moment she reached out and picked it up.

Unfortunately, Luminara had sacrificed her timing. The door slid open again in response to a much firmer and more balanced command in the Force than Barriss had been capable of, and Luminara raised a hand to forestall any questions the pair of Guards might have had.

“Thank you,” she said evenly, “For responding so quickly. If you could be kind enough—to watch over my Padawan, for a moment.” She felt a spike of misery along the bond and wished she could explain to Barriss that she knew she wouldn’t run, it was the principle of the thing, she couldn’t just leave her unsupervised after everything she’d confessed to. She called Barriss’ lightsaber to her hand, suddenly grateful that Barriss had given it up so desperately. Luminara wasn’t certain she would be able to bear forcing her to surrender it. Especially not in front of the Temple Guard. “I need to…” Her voice wavered. “Wake Master Drallig.”

She was grateful beyond words that they didn’t question this. She felt Barriss’ sharp pang of irrational fear as the door closed between them, but it faded quickly enough, and then she did her best to block her apprentice’s feelings from her mind. She felt sick enough without adding Barriss’ anxiety to her own mounting horror.

It could have been worse, she tried to remind herself. It could have been so much worse.

But the world was dissolving around her, completely beyond her control, and of everything she had known might happen, all the possibilities she had thought she’d prepared herself for, the weak reminder that _it could have been worse_ meant so little when—

She was seeking out the head of Temple security to _arrest her Padawan for treason—_

Luminara could just as easily have contacted Cin Drallig directly. But then she would have been facing Barriss when the truth of the situation finally caught up to her, and…it wasn’t right, she thought as she rested her forehead against a pillar and clung to the cool stone as the only solid thing left in the world.

It wasn’t right for a Padawan to see their master cry. Not like this.

* * *

* * *

 It seemed to take days for her clearance to register.

In reality, Luminara had her hand on the scanner for slightly over five seconds before the indicator light flashed green and the entrance to the holding cells slid open. The Guard was expecting her, so at least she didn’t have to explain why she was here. It was fairly obvious anyway; the humming ray shields were only activated in two of the facing cells, and she had no connection to Letta Turmond.

One of the Guards flanking Barriss’ cell deactivated the shield as Luminara approached, and she hesitated for a moment before stepping over the threshold.

“Barriss,” she said carefully. “It’s time to go.”

Barriss was sitting on the floor in the corner next to the entrance, with her arms folded across her raised knees. It took her a moment to acknowledge Luminara, and when she finally looked up Luminara was struck by how _exhausted_ she appeared. Apparently, neither of them had gotten any sleep last night—but Luminara had at least managed a few hours of meditation. Barriss, it seemed, had not.

She offered her Padawan a hand up, which was accepted without a word. Barriss took a moment to brush herself down and adjust her clothing, making sure her hair was covered under her hood. She avoided eye contact like it would burn her, gaze locked on the floor as she folded her hands in front of her and waited for some signal, some instruction.

Luminara closed her eyes for a moment—as if it would erase the image of her silent, shattered apprentice hovering at her shoulder.

“Come along, Padawan,” she said quietly.

As they stepped out of the cell, Luminara caught sight of Letta Turmond in the cell across from them. She was standing as close to the ray shield as she dared, glaring at the two of them. Luminara could feel the woman’s contempt for her radiating out through the Force, but the look she gave Barriss was as betrayed as it was angry.

“ _Traitor_ ,” Letta spat as they walked by. Barriss didn’t react to the accusation, acted as though her co-conspirator wasn’t there at all, but the irony of it wasn’t lost on Luminara.

Luminara had done some research after the bomb plot had been safely foiled. Letta Turmond had a long history of radical anti-Jedi activism, and had been detained before at protests-turned-riots. Lack of success had turned her into an instigator of violence. Luminara had no idea how Barriss might have crossed her path, much less trusted her, but the fact that she had done both shook Luminara to her core.

“Would you like an escort, Master Unduli?”

Luminara was beginning to doubt Cin Drallig’s assertion that he slept at all and had not somehow transcended the mortal realm and become a being of pure cosmic energy and undiluted caf. There was no _possible_ way he’d gotten more rest than either of them, and yet he was as alert as ever.

Barriss was still standing at her elbow, all but dead to the world; Luminara declined Master Drallig’s offer with a silent shake of the head, and four of the Guard turned away to return to their normal duties. They were still flanked by a pair of Guards as they stepped into the turbolift, but it was at least better than a full escort.

None of them said a word for several minutes. Once, Luminara glanced back at her apprentice with words of comfort on her tongue; but they stuck, felt flat and insincere, and she let the silence return.

It was a relief when the turbolift finally slid open. Their escort crossed the antechamber to take up positions on either side of the doors, while Luminara led her Padawan across the room and toward the low murmur of voices.

Barriss faltered as they stepped into the chamber; it was the first sign she’d given all day that she was more than vaguely aware of her surroundings. Luminara had taken three more steps before she realized she’d left her apprentice behind. She looked back to find Barriss rigid, frozen just inside the doors. Had they not been clasped, she suspected her Padawan’s hands would have been shaking.

Luminara projected worry along their training bond until Barriss finally made eye contact, then gave her a reassuring nod. Barriss swallowed, looked back down at the floor, and followed her inside.

What little conversation hadn’t died when Luminara entered faded to silence as they crossed to the center of the room. If Barriss stood closer at Luminara’s left hand than usual, her master felt no need to comment on it.

 _The full Council_ , Luminara thought as she glanced around the room. Even the late Adi Gallia’s recently vacated seat was filled, though Luminara had no idea if Depa Billaba was only proxying or if she had been reappointed to the Council. Plo Koon, Kit, and Oppo Rancisis were present only in holograms, but they had managed to pull the rest together in person. Which, Luminara realized belatedly, should have been a relief rather than cause for anxiety.

Yoda and Mace Windu were watching Barriss solemnly, so it came as a mild shock when Obi-Wan was the first to speak.

“Master Unduli, Padawan Offee,” he greeted them, nodding to her and Barriss in turn. The formality was belied by concern he couldn’t quite hide. “I’ve informed the Council of everything you both told me last night. Barriss,” he added, and Luminara’s Padawan glanced up the barest possible amount she could manage without being rude. “You may be pleased to learn that Jackar Bowmani is safely in Jedi custody. We’re keeping him within an interference field so the nanodroids can’t be activated remotely. They’ve been neutralized, and a medical team has already begun the process to purge them from his system. The rest of the nanodroids have been recovered from the abandoned warehouse you told me about.”

There was a short pause as Barriss apparently waited for him to continue, then sketched a faint curtsy in acknowledgement. “Thank you, Master Kenobi.”

Yoda shook his head with a heavy sigh. “Grave, this matter is,” he said. “Think you capable of such violence, this Council did not.”

Shaak Ti hummed. “In that much,” she mused, “We appear to have been correct. Padawan.” She raised her voice slightly, dark eyes commanding Barriss’ attention; after a moment, Barriss finally looked up at her. “This plot went entirely undetected by both the Jedi and the Republic. There were no obvious warning signs. Other than your conspirator, there is nothing to link you to this plot. A great deal of thought had clearly gone into its execution. So what caused this sudden change of heart?”

Barriss glanced at Luminara and bit her lip before staring at the floor again.

“I’m a Jedi, Master Ti,” she said simply. “I didn’t want anyone else to die.”

Mace Windu sat forward. “And yet, Master Kenobi informs us _you_ planned the bombing in the first place.”

Barriss’ head came up at that, shoulders tightening defensively as she lifted her chin. “I did.”

Obi-Wan sighed, rubbing his chin. “I must say, Barriss—it’s difficult for me to accept. You’ve always been a model Padawan—this isn’t like you at all. You say you were willing to attack the Temple, your _home_. Why?”

“The Dark Side of the Force rarely needs a reason,” Saesee Tiin said. Luminara shot him a glance; he was shaking his head disapprovingly, and didn’t seem to notice the look.

Barriss took a deep breath, standing up straighter. She stopped wringing her hands in favor of folding them neatly at the small of her back. “You accuse me of serving the Dark Side, Master Tiin?” she asked coldly. Before he could reply, she continued. “I accuse all of you of the same.”

“ _Barriss_ ,” Luminara chided her, purely on reflex. Her Padawan ignored her.

“If hatred and fear are the tenets of the Dark, then the Order has fallen,” Barriss declared. “This Council signed our death warrant when it allowed us to be used as soldiers and assassins in a political war. I was raised to believe that Jedi were peacekeepers, not—not _military commanders!_ The Jedi have failed our mandate just as the Republic has failed its people. We have no right to take sides and dictate which civilians are worthy of protection, to subjugate entire worlds by brute force just because they chose to leave a dying Republic! Whatever the Jedi once were, it is clear to me now what we have been reduced to. The pain and suffering of this entire war serves nothing but the Dark Side.”

In the stunned silence that followed, Luminara was able to wonder in some corner of her mind exactly how long Barriss had been practicing that speech.

Oppo Rancisis cleared his throat. “And you sought…revenge on the Jedi?” he suggested. “Took it upon yourself to punish us for our crimes?”

That seemed to throw her. “What? No!” Barriss’ brow creased. “I never—I wanted to make you _listen_. There are countless people—citizens of the Republic, the ones we’re meant to serve—who are furious with what the Jedi have become, but what chance does a civilian have against _us?_ Their protests are ignored, they have no way to stage any resistance or even gain an audience…I provided the resources that let them strike a blow when they normally wouldn’t have been able to. All any of you listen to anymore is violence, so what choice do we leave them?”

“Violence cannot be stopped by violence, Padawan,” Depa Billaba said. Barriss spun on her heel to face her, frustration spiking in the Force.

“Do you think I don’t know that now? That’s why I stopped it from happening! The Temple should never have been a military installation. Those explosives I gave Letta, I got them from _here!_ The Temple is not supposed to be an _armory!_ ” She swallowed, chest heaving, and looked up at the ceiling as she paused.

When she spoke again, she was calmer, but her voice was hard. “I know my actions were wrong, but my reasons are still valid. I didn’t act alone,” she added, looking almost insulted. “Jackar Bowmani and his wife, no one had more right to hate us! He’s served us loyally for years and can barely afford to live hand to mouth; they were desperate enough to die just for a chance to make you see that our actions in this war have left the people of the Republic abandoned and betrayed!”

Several members of the Council looked like they were about to respond to that, but Obi-Wan raised a hand and they deferred to him.

“I, and several other members of this Council, spoke to Jackar Bowmani this morning,” he said, keeping his eyes locked on Barriss. “Nanodroids are ugly weapons, Padawan, but his distress was not caused by any discomfort in the process of removing them.”

Barriss glared at him, distrustful. “What do you mean?”

Obi-Wan’s gaze turned pitying. “Jackar was unaware of the nanodroids’ existence, Barriss. He didn’t know about the explosives until I told him. His wife planted them without ever consulting him. Other members of the Council can confirm this.”

Barriss stared at him. Her presence in the Force, which had been pulsing dully with guilt and anger, was suddenly so silent that Luminara didn’t realize how pale her Padawan had gone until Barriss swayed.

She barely seemed to register her master’s steadying touch on her arm. “You’re lying,” she said weakly, something wild behind her eyes. “You’re _wrong_. I couldn’t risk making contact with him directly in case we were seen together but that doesn’t mean anything, he knew, he had to have known, Letta told me…”

Barriss trailed off, and Luminara could feel her trembling beneath her hand.The brief, bold defiance was gone as quickly as it had flared.

“She lied,” said Mace Windu. “You allowed yourself to be deceived and manipulated by this woman because you thought the end result was _worth it_.”

“A dangerous path, that is,” Yoda added. “Able to recognize their mistake in time, few who start down it are.” If they were meant to be a comfort, the words did very little; Barriss was staring blankly at nothing, her mind a whirlwind of incoherent emotions. She wasn’t even trying to shield herself, and Luminara could feel the full force of it through their mental link.

The Council was exchanging loaded looks now, watching as Barriss fought to bring herself back under control. Part of Luminara wished Obi-Wan had warned them ahead of time and spared Barriss the brunt of the shock; the rest of her realized that the Council had _needed_ to see this, her uncensored horror at learning she had almost sacrificed an innocent man for her cause. The knowledge did nothing to ease the pain.

“Padawan.” That was Master Mundi, with his odd, gentle firmness. “We trust you realize how close you have stepped to the Dark Side in this matter, and the seriousness of such a thing.”

Barriss swallowed heavily, opening and closing her mouth several times before she was able to find her voice.

“...Yes,” she finally whispered. Several Council members inclined their heads in acknowledgement.

Plo Koon folded his hands. “That is more than can be said for many who have been in your position, young one.”

Master Tiin shook his head. “Be that as it may,” he said, “Padawan Offee still presents a considerable security risk. Arrangements will have to be made for her imprisonment—”

“Now, wait just a moment,” Obi-Wan protested.

“That has not been decided yet,” Mace agreed.

“I don’t see what there is to decide,” said Eeth Koth. “We cannot risk letting her remain at liberty. She is on the edge of falling to the Dark Side, and I for one am not convinced that she hasn’t already—”

“ _Master Koth!_ ” Luminara snapped, and was instantly horrified with herself. As it happened, the Council didn’t even appear to notice her outburst, as no less than three of its own members had echoed her.

“That was uncalled-for,” Master Windu said sternly, narrowly interrupting Depa Billaba’s “Temptation is not corruption, Master Koth!”

The image of Oppo Rancisis coiled uncomfortably. “While I disagree with Master Koth’s sentiment, the fact remains that Padawan Offee’s continued association with the Order _should_ be called into question in light of her actions.”

Plo Koon might have glanced sideways at Oppo; it was difficult to tell, especially over hologram. “If every Jedi who had brushed the Dark Side were expelled from the Order,” he said evenly, “There would be no Jedi.”

Master Billaba tossed her head back. “Every member of this Council could claim they have never been tempted,” she declared. “And every member of this Council would be lying.”

“Quite,” agreed Shaak Ti with a decidedly unimpressed look at Rancisis. “Barriss’ character is not the subject of this hearing. She has been involved in no small crime,” she acknowledged, glancing at Luminara. “But in coming forward she saved the lives of many. It takes great strength to admit to one’s mistakes. If we are to judge this Padawan’s actions, she will be judged by _all_ of them.”

“Well spoken, Master Ti.” Kit Fisto’s hologram had been silent until now, but he fixed his gaze on each member of the Council as he said, “Padawan Offee has not been discovered in the midst of some deception, my friends. It is important to remember that had she not already proven her honesty and desire to serve the Force, we would be having a very different conversation right now. Perhaps some of us would even be dead.”

Eeth sighed. “It wasn’t my intention to ignore the significance of stepping back from such a temptation,” he said, nodding to Depa Billaba. “But the war will not stop because Padawan Offee disapproves of it. There will be other temptations, and stronger ones. And I do not believe she is in any state to resist them a second time.”

The look that crossed Obi-Wan’s face was subtle, but Luminara knew him well enough to recognize how frustrated it was. “I don’t understand why we would consider sending her back to the war at all,” he said. “It seems obvious to me that her exposure on the front lines is directly responsible for her being in this _state_ to begin with.”

Ki-Adi Mundi blinked, mild surprise flaring in his Force presence. “Master Kenobi?”

“The Council cannot escape responsibility in this,” Obi-Wan insisted. “There are burdens that we were unwise to place on a Padawan’s shoulders. A young healer should never have been torn from her master and thrown into the heat of battle alone. Despite her advanced abilities, Barriss is _not_ a Knight, and we treated her as one too often. She needed Luminara’s support and guidance.”

“Shielding me from the facts wouldn’t have changed them,” Barriss muttered, but Luminara wasn’t certain anyone but her had caught the words.

“Master Unduli,” Kit said. “Your thoughts?”

Luminara was caught off-guard. “I…” Barriss stiffened in anticipation, and Luminara placed a hand between her shoulderblades to calm her. “Masters, I do not believe Barriss is a threat. This war has harmed her enough; she needs healing and peace, not further punishment.”

Ki-Adi Mundi sighed. “Your compassion for your student does you credit, Master Unduli, but you did not see any warning of this attack. While I don’t believe incarceration is necessary at this time, the Padawan _is_ a danger to the Order if left unchecked. At the very least, I would suggest—”

Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

“Masters,” he said pointedly. “If we have no further questions for Padawan Offee, I don’t believe it’s necessary for her to be present during this discussion.”

 _Thank you, Obi-Wan_. Luminara had been about to suggest the same thing. Barriss had been steadily radiating misery since the debate began, inching so close to her master they were almost touching; she didn’t need to listen to any more.

A few of the Council members looked chastened, as if it had just now occurred to them that speaking about someone like they weren’t there might be distressing.

“Of course,” Kit said kindly. “Padawan, you may wish to wait in the hall.”

Shaak Ti raised a hand to halt Barriss mid-curtsy.

“I do have one further question, Padawan Offee,” she said mildly, sitting forward and peering at Barriss over steepled fingers.

“Master?”

Shaak Ti tilted her head slightly as she considered the young Mirialan. Barriss didn’t fidget under her steady scrutiny, but Luminara could feel her tension.

“Several suggestions have been made,” said Shaak Ti after a moment. “What is your opinion of them? How do you feel, personally, that you should be dealt with by this Council?”

Barriss hesitated, looked over her shoulder for Luminara’s guidance; Luminara could offer her nothing but an encouraging nod. “Well, Barriss?” she asked, as gently as could.

“I…” Barriss’ eyes slid over the Council members as she tried to understand the question.

“There will be consequences for your actions, Padawan,” Shaak Ti prompted. “As I am sure you realize. What would _you_ consider to be fair treatment?”

After a moment, Barriss seemed to lose what little fighting spirit she had left, stepping back and dropping her gaze.

“Just...don’t send me to the front again,” she whispered. Her voice broke mid-sentence. “Please. Don’t make me kill anyone else. I _can’t_.”

Shaak Ti’s eyebrows raised, echoed by several other Council members; Mace Windu and, surprisingly, Eeth Koth were among them.

“Is that all, Master Ti?” Ki-Adi Mundi asked finally. Shaak Ti gave Barriss a soft, reassuring smile and inclined her head, and Luminara returned guiding fingertips to Barriss’ arm.

Barriss turned willingly after her as she bowed to Yoda. “Masters,” said Luminara by way of excusing herself, but she faltered when Mace held up a hand.

“If you’ll remain, Master Unduli,” he said. “You know your apprentice best; your input will be valuable as we decide how to deal with this situation.”

“Of course.” She dipped her head in acknowledgement. “I’ll come for you when the Council has reached a decision, Barriss.” Barriss didn’t look happy about the separation, but she didn’t look any more miserable, either. Luminara hesitated, then placed a hand on her shoulder. “Meditate, if you can.”

Even that small instruction seemed to cut some of Barriss’ confusion; she bowed to Luminara and only stumbled once as she slipped out of the Council chamber.

Plo Koon sighed.

“Well,” he said gravely. “We have decisions to make.”

* * *

 Barriss never quite managed to meditate.

Not to say she didn’t _try_. It was just… difficult to concentrate. She was constantly aware of the two guards in the antechamber with her. Usually things like that didn’t distract her, but the knowledge that they were there to prevent her from leaving—and that the precaution was completely reasonable of them—made it hard not to feel their presence.

And waiting for her fate to be decided by a group of people whose judgement she trusted about as much as she would a spice-addled Hutt’s was certainly a cause for anxiety.

She didn’t have a chrono with her—it was built into her communicator and she’d handed that over when she was arrested—but she spent what felt like around two hours kneeling near the window, eyes closed, trying to calm her mind and her breathing. She _tried_. After all, she thought reasonably. What was the worst that could happen?

After spending a few minutes thinking about it, she hastily changed tack and thought, _what’s the worst thing you can bear?_

 _Execution_ , she told herself honestly.

No. No, that definitely didn’t help.

This was still better than the alternative. That fact, at least, helped her force her panic down. Whatever happened, whatever they did with her—it was better than not saying anything. This was better than killing people just to make a point. Nothing was worth that. Not even the barest chance of getting the Council to stop this spiral into darkness while they still could. _No hope of that now._ They were treating this as some kind of…psychotic break, a random act of near-violence brought on by stress. She should have known they would never really listen to her.

Maybe they would have, if the bomb had actually—no. _Nothing is worth that._

“Barriss.” Master Luminara’s voice cut into her thoughts. Barriss opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder to see her master standing over her. “They’d like to see you now.”

There was something in her expression that gave Barriss cause for concern. It might even have been _anger_ , but that was absurd. Luminara didn’t get angry, Barriss was imagining things. She gave Luminara a nod of acknowledgement and followed her back into the Council room. Time to get this over with.

Standing exposed in the center of the Council chamber felt different, this time. Barriss didn’t feel any less alone, the weight of the Council’s eyes on her didn’t make her feel any less small. But the long, silent wait had been torture. A sentence would almost come as a relief now.

“Padawan Offee.”

Well, there was a good sign, of sorts, if a Council member was still using her title.

Kit Fisto had been the first to greet her this time, which was strange; but Obi-Wan Kenobi was frowning at the floor and rubbing his beard, and didn’t react to their presence except to give Barriss’ master a distracted nod.

“Master Fisto,” Barriss replied quietly. She felt lightheaded and didn’t dare curtsy for fear she would fall over, but she gave him a shallow bow. She wasn’t a _barbarian_.

Yoda folded his hands over his staff.

“Reached a decision, the Council has,” he said with a smile that Barriss couldn’t return. “Expelled from the Order, you are not. A Jedi you remain.”

Barriss bowed again. “Thank you, Masters.” The words were stiff; there was still tension leaking along her bond with Master Luminara, and it distracted from any relief she might have felt.

Mace Windu sat forward. “There are conditions to your continued service as a Jedi,” he warned her, and Barriss felt herself tense again. This was it. “From this point forward, you _are_ confined to the Temple grounds. How you choose to spend your time is your decision, but you will not be permitted to leave the Temple for any reason. Violation of that restriction will result in much harsher measures in the future, which may include imprisonment at the Council’s discretion.”

“I understand, Master Windu.” Some of the anxiety began to fade. Barriss had been resigned to a windowless cell in solitary confinement. Restriction to the Temple—it was almost a gift.

Master Kenobi sighed and sat up straighter. “You’ll have freedom of movement within the Temple,” he assured her. “But—”

“That’s not entirely true, Master Kenobi.” Eeth Koth’s interruption wasn’t quite sharp, but it was far from gentle. When Barriss turned to look at him, he met her gaze and said bluntly, “The hangar bays, command and intelligence centers, communications tower, and armories are off-limits. Breaking that ban will result in your immediate arrest. Do you understand, Padawan?”

“Perfectly, Master Koth.” His tone hurt Barriss’ pride more than anything, but she couldn’t pretend it wasn’t justified. She had, in fact, almost bombed one of those places, and the rest were tied to the war directly enough that Barriss had to concede the point. Prevention was always better than cure.

Of course it would take until now for the Council to figure that out.

“You still have free access to the rest of the Temple, Padawan,” came Plo Koon’s slightly static-filled rumble. “We believe you will make yourself useful. Should you wish to keep up your skills with a lightsaber, a training weapon will be provided while you are in the practice grounds.”

“You need only ask,” Shaak Ti confirmed.

Barriss hadn’t used a training blade since she was twelve years old, but no matter how much it stung, even _she_ didn’t trust herself to carry her lightsaber anymore. She folded her hands together to bury the instinctive flexing around a hilt she might never see again. _The blade is an extension of your soul_ , she had been taught, time and again. Fitting. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t known what she was losing from the moment she delivered a crate of nanodroids to Letta Turmond.

“You are to have an escort at all times,” Master Windu said. “Either a member of the Temple Guard or a Jedi Master.”

Master Billaba cleared her throat lightly, just enough to get Barriss’ attention.

“The escort will be unobtrusive,” she said. “And, after some debate…” Barriss didn’t miss the look she flicked toward Master Rancisis, and neither did the rest of the Council from what she could tell. “It has been decided not to deny you free communication or access to information. We want you to feel safe here, not smothered—to give you an opportunity to heal. As a concession to security, however, your access will be monitored. Master Unduli will receive a full record of your communications and HoloNet activity.” She nodded to Master Luminara, and Barriss was taken aback when the respectful gesture was met with barely more than a twitch of recognition. “We trust her discretion in determining what might be danger signs, and her concern for your privacy was valid.”

That was fair. It was a blow, it was irrefutable evidence of the amount of trust Barriss had lost, but it was fair, and she bowed her head.

“I understand,” she said again.

In the moment before Master Windu spoke again, she felt a spike of agitation over her bond with Master Luminara. “There is one more restriction,” he said.

“One which I continue to believe is _entirely_ unnecessary.” Barriss looked up, equal parts shocked and concerned; her master hadn’t spoken since entering the Council chamber again, and there was a hard reproach in her voice that Barriss had only heard a handful of times. It had only been directed at her _once_ , and that had been enough to terrify her for a week.

“You’ve made your views quite clear, Master Unduli.” Master Tiin’s voice was firm.

“But apparently not clear enough, Master Tiin.” Barriss jumped slightly as she felt a comforting arm around her shoulders, her master’s hand reassuringly squeezing her elbow. “There is little enough left in the Order that my Padawan does not associate with pain and bloodshed. To take that away is a _mistake_. I beg the Council to reconsider.”

Master Kenobi and Shaak Ti exchanged a pained look, but the other Council members—at least the ones Barriss could see—didn’t react. Master Yoda appeared unhappy, but shook his head.

“Made, the decision is, Master Unduli. Your argument we have heard already. Master Kenobi?” Kenobi started slightly at being addressed, and Yoda indicated for him to speak.

If someone didn’t tell her what Luminara had objected to so strenuously soon, Barriss was going to either scream or cry. Thankfully, Master Kenobi didn’t hesitate for long.

“The Council has decided,” he said, “to remove your clearance for access to the youngling classes and quarters.”

There was a cold stutter in the Force as Barriss tried to understand what he’d said.

“...What?”

Mace Windu exchanged an uneasy look with Yoda. “You are no longer permitted to take on a position of influence or authority with younglings,” he said. “That means teaching and tutoring, as well as caretaking, minding clans at play, and assisting in the creche.”

“I believe she understands that, Master.” Barriss was still too horrified to react to the terseness in her master’s voice.

Shaak Ti’s voice was gentle and steady and somehow worse than Master Windu’s neutral frankness.

“You are not forbidden from being a friend to them, Padawan,” she said. “If younglings approach you as they always have, you may be as kind to them as ever. You are more than welcome to heal their hurts, answer their questions, and play with them—so long as they are in a communal area, and you have the permission of their chaperone.”

Barriss realized she was shaking her head around the same moment she realized that the only thing stopping her from backing away from Master Ti in horror was her master’s arm across her back.

“I don’t…” She hated the tremble in her voice, but couldn’t control it. “ _Why?_ ”

“We feel it would…” Master Tiin hesitated awkwardly over his wording. “Put you under an unnecessary amount of stress.”

“I have never felt calmer or more relaxed than I do when working with younglings,” Barriss said quickly, the words drawn out in a rush. “Masters, I am willing to accept the consequences of my actions, but nothing I have done _warrants_ this!”

Ki-Adi Mundi’s watery eyes were compassionate, his voice was soft, and his words went through her like lightsaber blades. “The Council knows how much you care for younglings, Padawan,” he told her. “That care is what concerns us. Many of those younglings will be Padawans soon; they may be asked to go to the front lines themselves. How might you react emotionally to seeing that happen? With how deeply the war has affected you, we cannot place you in a position that may lead to your becoming desperate.”

Master Koth shook his head. “And that’s to say nothing of the effect you could have on impressionable younglings in your current condition.”

 _Your current condition_.

Of course.

“You think I’ll corrupt them,” Barriss translated. She had to smile at it, the _absurdity_ of it, at her own naivety in not realizing it instantly. The smile felt wrong; too sharp, too painful. _Or do you think I’ll hurt them just to cripple the Order?_

No one confirmed her statement. No one argued with it, either.

After a few moments of deep breathing, Barriss trusted herself to speak without screaming at the High Council. “Is there anything else, Masters?”

“This is not a permanent arrangement,” Master Kenobi said with an attempt at a reassuring tone—which only frustrated her more. “We will discuss lifting at least some of these restrictions once the war is over, dependent on your behavior.”

 _The war will never be over_ , Barriss thought in despair. She was too tired, suddenly, to say anything more. _You made us part of the military, the war will never end. If the Separatists surrendered tomorrow there would be some other enemy after that. We have an army and it will always be more convenient to use it. We’ll always be soldiers now and you’re all too blind to see it._

“Yes, Master.” Luminara’s arm around her suddenly felt like an Umbaran constricting vine. Barriss shrugged out of it as she asked again, “Is there anything else?”

The pause this time while the Council just sat and watched her stretched on even longer.

“Our judgement, this is,” Yoda said finally. “Go, you may.”

Barriss very nearly turned on her heel without another word; it was only her master’s presence at her side that kept her steady enough to bow formally before straightening and walking away.

* * *

* * *

_This is getting ridiculous_ , Ahsoka thought as she found herself going over the same paragraph of her reading assignment for the fourth time in a row. There was no way she could focus on this, and it was Barriss’ fault.

It had been three days since Ahsoka’s transport came in. Three days. She had wanted to confront Barriss the second she stepped off.

She’d gotten distracted at first because Master Kenobi had met them on the landing platform with some message for Anakin and it would have been rude to just run off before she was dismissed. There was something weird about that—not the message from Padmé, that was pretty normal. But Anakin had rolled his eyes when Ahsoka asked anxiously what was going on with Barriss, and that was _weird_. They’d barely heard anything over the holocall and the little Ahsoka had been able to find out didn’t make any _sense_. Anakin always wanted to get to the bottom of things. She had thought he’d be more interested.

He hadn’t even stayed to walk to the dining hall with her and Obi-Wan; he’d just clapped his former Master on the shoulder, waved to Ahsoka and gone off to _totally_ not spend time with Senator Amidala. At least Obi-Wan was willing to tell Ahsoka what he was allowed to discuss about Barriss’ trial.

 _Barriss_. Of all the Jedi, she was the last who should have done this. It didn’t make sense, even with Obi-Wan’s explanation of her reasons. And Ahsoka wanted to get some answers.

Three days later, she still didn’t have any. Ahsoka had checked everywhere that Barriss could usually be found: her quarters, the archives, Luminara’s quarters, the Halls of Healing. Every free moment of time Ahsoka had was spent looking for her. There was only one explanation for it. Barriss was hiding from her.

She’d almost gotten her the other day, too. She’d seen Barriss go into the Halls of Healing and the pair of Guards station themselves at the door, so she’d sat down on a bench across the hall and waited. Hey, it might not be her strong suit, but Ahsoka could be patient when she needed to be.

Four hours later the Guards had cocked their heads like they were listening to something, then wandered off. Ahsoka had waited a few minutes, gotten suspicious, and gone inside.

Barriss wasn’t there, none of the Healers were all that interested in Ahsoka once they realized she was neither injured nor there to help, and a window at the other end was open.

This meant war.

Unfortunately, Padawan duties took precedence over Ahsoka’s loosely-formed plan to hide in the rafters and drop a net on Barriss’ head.

 _Or maybe snares_ , she thought as she loaded another set of ship schematics Master Skywalker wanted her to memorize. No, there was probably no way to camouflage them on the bare floors of the Temple. Besides, with her luck she’d probably end up catching Master Yoda or something. _I could dig a big pit…_

“Did you find everything you need, Padawan Tano?”

Ahsoka looked up from her terminal and smiled at the elder Jedi. “Yes, Master Jocasta. Thank you.” Jocasta Nu smiled at her and started to turn away. “Although,” Ahsoka added impulsively, then waited until she had her attention again. “You wouldn’t happen to have seen Barriss Offee anywhere, have you?”

Master Jocasta’s smile dimmed, but only slightly. “As a matter of fact, I have. She just came in the Archives a few minutes ago. Would you like me to tell her you’re looking for her?”

“No,” Ahsoka said hastily. “No, thank you, it’s fine. I appreciate it.” Anakin’s seven millionth variation on a Separatist patrol speeder was going to have to wait. She pushed herself to her feet. “Where…?”

Master Jocasta raised an eyebrow and nodded toward one of the medical sections. Right. Ahsoka probably could have figured that out.

“Thanks,” she said again, and was able to control herself enough to not actually bolt into the shelves. A nice, dignified jog. She was fine! She was completely calm.

Ahsoka forced herself to pause as she reached the medical reference section. She wanted to talk to Barriss, not scare her off. _Deep breaths_ , she told herself. She closed her eyes, forced her muscles to relax, and reached out in the Force to find her friend.

 _Got you_. Ahsoka opened her eyes and started edging down along the stacks. _Barriss, I swear, if you run this time I’m tackling you_.

Barriss must have been _really_ distracted, because she didn’t seem to notice when Ahsoka peeked around the end of a row of gently blinking data units. Her arms were full of them; she was standing on tiptoe trying to push one block back into its slot without dropping the others.

Ahsoka got as close as she dared before she leaned against the row of shelves. “Need a hand with that?”

Barriss didn’t scream, exactly; it was more of a yelp, accompanied by a flinch sudden enough to send the stack of data units balanced in her arms scattering along the row as she spun around.

“Ahsoka!”

“Barriss!” Ahsoka said, pressing her lips together. “Been a while, hasn’t it?”

Barriss took a step back from her, glancing around like she was looking for an escape route. “I…yes, I suppose it…you’re here.”

“Yep!” Ahsoka gave her a tight smile. “It’s strange, I’ve been looking for you for days now.”

“Have you?” Barriss asked weakly.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes and pushed off the shelf. “C’mon, Barriss. You can’t keep jumping out windows every time I try to talk to you for the rest of our lives.”

Barriss cast her eyes down and didn’t reply.

After a few seconds, Ahsoka sighed and bent down to pick up a few of Barriss’ fallen datapads.

“Obi-Wan told me what happened,” she said, holding them out. Barriss’ fingers were tangled in the edge of her hood, but she freed one hand to take the datapads. She was careful not to let her fingers brush Ahsoka’s. “He said you stopped it.”

“Yes,” Barriss said in a small voice.

“After you started it.”

“Yes.” Barriss’ voice was even smaller that time.

Ahsoka stared at her for a long moment, then shook her head. “So why do it in the first place?”

Barriss’ eyes closed as she shrank in on herself. “I’ve already discussed this with the Council—”

“Well, I want you to discuss it with me! I’m supposed to be your friend. You didn’t tell me anything! If you hated the war so much why didn’t you—” she cut the thought off and rubbed at her temples in an attempt to calm herself. “I’m a Jedi. Do you hate me, too?”

Barriss’ eyes flew open. “What—no! Never! I don’t hate you, I could never hate you, it’s just...”

Ahsoka crossed her arms tight across her chest and glared at an empty space in the archive stacks.

“You hate the war,” she said finally. “I get it.” _Sort of_. “Look, I know you don’t think we should be soldiers, but…I mean…” Ahsoka didn’t even know what she was trying to say.

“I can’t give you an explanation, Ahsoka.” Barriss wasn’t looking at her, either. “My actions were wrong and my justifications for them were lies I told myself. I planned a terrorist attack on the Temple because I was angry and desperate and...afraid. Is that what you wanted to hear? Or did you think it made sense somehow?”

The overwhelming bitterness in Barriss’ words felt like a dagger to Ahsoka’s heart, but it still managed to be infectious. “Of course it doesn’t make sense,” she said. “You’re one of the most perfect Padawans I’ve ever met, how could you of all people let yourself get to that point? Not even _I_ would be that stupid. What were you _thinking?_ ”

“I just wanted it to end.”

“You know better than that!” Ahsoka’s voice was suddenly too loud for the silence of the Archives, and she felt someone in the next row look over at them with disapproval.

“Obviously,” Barriss snapped. She was glaring lasers at the floor, but the Force around her boiled with guilt and pain rather than anger.

Ahsoka resisted the urge to clench her fists. “You never thought to, I don’t know, _say something?_ To Luminara? To _me?_ ” Her voice finally cracked on the last word, and whatever retort Barriss might have given died as she looked up in shock. “You were in _pain_ and I didn’t know. Why didn’t you ask me for help? Did you think I wouldn’t care? We could have found a better way to change things! I thought I was your friend, you’re supposed to _trust_ me!”

Barriss blinked rapidly, swallowed, and shook her head without a word.

“I,” she managed to whisper. “I—I don’t…”

At least she didn’t back away when Ahsoka took a step forward.

“Look,” she said. “I can’t…justify what you almost did, but I get it. You’re a healer, you probably saw a lot more of the bad stuff than I did. I get being scared, I get being angry with the Council. I mean,” she forced a small laugh. “Anakin’s angry with the Council like, _all the time_.”

Barriss didn’t smile, and Ahsoka’s brief moment of lightness faded.

“Barriss?” Ahsoka swallowed around a sudden lump in her throat. “I mean it. I’m not mad at you for something you _thought_ about doing. Maybe I was, at first, but you stopped. You didn’t go through with it, and you could have. I just...you should have talked to me. You should have told me what was going on and let me help, not tried to deal with everything by yourself.”

The silence stretched on, and then Barriss finally looked up at her with a blank expression. “You’re right,” she said. “I could never have argued about it all with Master Luminara, but...” She swallowed. “I was wrong not to let you help me when I needed it.”

Ahsoka took another step closer and offered a hand. “Will you let me now?”

Barriss looked at it doubtfully. Ahsoka felt like screaming at her for a moment, but before she could say anything Barriss took hold of it.

“Yes,” Barriss said. Ahsoka suspected that her friend’s smile was forced, but it was a start.

“Right then,” Ahsoka said when Barriss let go of her hand. “I guess I can start by helping you clean this up?” She gestured to the mess around them. “I mean it’s kind of my fault you dropped them, anyway.”

Barriss raised an eyebrow, and this time her smile was much less forced. “Kind of?”

Ahsoka laughed. “Fine, it’s entirely my fault.”

As they gathered the datapads up, Ahsoka added “After this, can I help you with whatever you’re working on?”

“Adverse reactions to alternative anticoagulants in reptilian sentients?” Barriss’ lips twitched, almost shyly.

Ahsoka considered it. “Or maybe we can get some lunch?”

Barriss ducked her head.

“Lunch,” she said. “Lunch sounds good.”

* * *

* * *

There was something calming about healing.

 _Well_ , Barriss thought as she prepared a syringe. _Calming_ might not always be the right word. Even on days like this, slow days with no critical new patients, there was always an alertness necessary in the Halls of Healing. _Steadying_ , perhaps. It wasn’t that there was no war; the evidence of the violence was more stark here than anywhere. But there were no politics, no immediate physical threats, no conflicting moralities. It was simple. _Save what lives you can_. Easing pain where possible. Thinking about anything but the patient would spell disaster.

It made all the difference, sometimes. Having something to focus on. Something to do that made her feel like a Jedi. Prisoner here or not, Barriss was _meant_ to be a healer.

“Looking better already, sir.”

Barriss looked over to see a wry smile on her Verpine patient’s face. “You should never lie to a Jedi, Ray,” xe rasped. Barriss winced in unison with the clone at the obvious pain it caused his general to speak. The insectoid skin was an unnatural shade of dark mud-brown; they didn’t even have a name yet for whatever virus xe’d managed to pick up in the field. It had been a long five days of frantically trying to figure out what exactly it was doing to the body of its host, and only in the past forty-eight hours had they started to see a true reversal of the effects.

“You’re awake, sir,” Ray insisted stubbornly. “That’s better in my book.”

His general made an affectionate buzzing sound and laid back. “How are the boys?”

Ray sat down on the edge of xir bed with a grin. “Having a little too much fun, sir. Don’t worry. I’ll have ‘em whipped into shape by the time you’re back. I won’t even tell you what Nova and his gang have been up to. It’d twist your antennae something awful.”

There was a weak, amused click. “Tell me. I could…” A harsh wheeze. “Use the laugh.”

Barriss’ lips twitched reflexively as she crossed over to them. Yes. Asking Master Che for permission to serve as a healer had been the right choice. Let her make up for some of the lives she had taken. Fix the damage she had done.

And if it also meant hearing quite a bit about the clone troopers’ exploits _off_ the battlefield, well, who could really blame her?

Ray groaned. “Where to _start_ , general—oh. ‘scuse me, sir.”

Barriss smiled at him as she carefully worked the long needle between the plates of Master Dfuzg’s exoskeleton. “It’s no trouble, Commander. Tell me if this hurts, Master.” The Verpine circulatory system was very different from most species that Barriss worked on—it didn’t even have a heart—so giving injections could be complicated. The last thing she wanted was to miss the vein.

“ _Everything_ hurts,” Master Dfuzg whirred unhappily. The needle went in smoothly, however, so Barriss counted it a success.

There was terse silence until Barriss withdrew the syringe and set it aside. Whatever this virus was, it had a side effect of dangerously drying out Verpine exoskeletons, and she turned to Ray again as she worked a specialized moisturizing agent into a bacta pad.

“Tell xem about Nova,” she prompted. “This may sting. I’m sure xe’ll appreciate the distraction.”

The clone looked at his general uncertainly, and though Dfuzg’s huge compound eyes didn’t focus the same way, Barriss thought xe was returning the attention.

“Actually, Padawan,” xe said, “I’m very tired. I would appreciate a chance to rest.”

Commander Ray coughed. “Of course, General. I’ve got some paperwork I need to sort out back at the barracks anyway.”

Dfuzg was still as alert as xe had been before she came over, Barriss could sense it plain as day. She could also sense her patient’s discomfort. It was difficult to tell, but she thought Dfuzg might have been avoiding eye contact.

She placed the prepared bacta sponge into a sealed drawer, pretending not to notice her fingers tremble as she did so.

“Of course, Master,” Barriss said quietly. “If it causes you any pain…”

“Use the call button,” Dfuzg whirred. There was a shortness to xir tone that Barriss was only really able to detect because of the tension radiating in the Force.

“Someone will come to help you,” was all she said. “I’ll leave you in peace, Master.”

She wandered blindly halfway across the hall and stopped, trying to figure out what to do with herself. She only wanted to help. They had recovering patients who needed help. Even if they didn’t want it from a traitor like her.

She felt cold, numb, disconnected from her patients. How was she supposed to heal them like this?

“Padawan.” Barriss flinched reflexively, but Master Nema down the line only motioned her toward a clone trooper who was standing near the door, shaking the hand of one of the other healers. “I need you to prepare a new bed. I’ll finish your rounds.”

“Of course, Master.” Barriss wished it wasn’t such a relief as she handed her datapad off to Master Nema and traded places with her, gathering up the equipment and bedding they’d used for the trooper. Disinfecting things. It was better than the fighting.

At least medical equipment didn’t actively refuse to look at her.

* * *

All in all, Barriss had served better shifts.

There was a reason she normally took night shifts, she thought with a slight grimace as she placed a shuura on her tray. Three rounds washing her arms nearly to the shoulder in disinfectant, and she still felt vaguely uneasy about handling food. Unfortunately, Master Che had strict rules about the number of graveyard shifts her healers were allowed to work outside of emergencies. Barriss had already met her limit this week. That meant morning shifts only, unless her master gave her week-by-week permission to skip her training blocks.

Someday, Barriss might request that. Right now, special treatment felt like too much to ask.

After the forced, polite smiles, terse replies, and lack of eye contact she had gotten on her shift, the hum of conversation in the dining hall was a relief. Even with the stares she could feel at her back and the guard following at a respectful distance as she made herself a rushed salad, it was better than the ringing silence.

Healing was intimate; her patients couldn’t hide their discomfort in those circumstances. Back in the Temple proper, Barriss was simply ignored. It didn’t hurt quite as much.

Though she did her best not to let it bother her, she couldn’t help but notice that when she put her tray down at a random table, the conversation died before she had even sat down. She nodded to the handful of Jedi there, keeping her eyes on her food so she didn’t see the looks on their faces. After a few moments, the conversation resumed, careful and subdued.

By the time she’d gotten halfway through her lunch, the table was empty. Normal conversation continued around her, but Barriss had enough experience by now to know that if she looked up she would find herself at the center of an almost perfect circle of isolation.

It would almost be easier if the Order was being malicious. They weren’t trying to be cruel. They just couldn’t bear to be too close to her. And she couldn’t exactly blame them for that, could she?

But would it be so much to ask that they ignore her _completely_ , if she must be ignored? She could sense eyes on her every few seconds; some pitying, some wary, some morbidly curious. All of them uncomfortable. It was...distracting. Ignored entirely, she could let her mind wander. But this—it was impossible to forget where she was. _What_ she was. Feeling the attention of the room on her from all sides, constantly, with no reprieve…

Suddenly the loneliness was unbearable.

Barriss fumbled with the communicator on her wrist, and it took an uncomfortably long time for Luminara to answer her call. When the comm finally did pick up, there was no holo. Barriss tried not to be disappointed by that; sometimes just the sight of her master was enough to center her.

“ _Barriss? Is something wrong?_ ”

Barriss cleared her throat. “No, Master. I was just wondering if you had any free time later today?” She winced slightly at the lightness in her own voice. She’d probably overdone it. “I was hoping I could meet you for supper. That’s all.”

There was silence for long enough that Barriss’ heartbeat started to thud in her ears. Had she said something wrong? Overstepped her bounds…?

Finally, there was a static-filled sigh.

“ _Barriss, I wish I could_.” The words made Barriss’ gut clench, but at least her master’s tone was apologetic rather than disapproving. “ _I have an advisory meeting with the Chancellor in a few hours, and I’m afraid I don’t see any way it will end before it’s quite late_.”

Barriss swallowed. “Of course, Master. I should have remembered.”

Luminara’s voice sounded pained even over the comm. “ _If it were possible to leave early, Padawan_...”

“Please.” Barriss gave a shallow, seated bow out of habit. “Don’t concern yourself on my account, Master. It was only a thought.”

Another pause.

“ _I’ll speak with you in the morning, Barriss_.”

“Yes, Master.”

Another pause, what Barriss would have called hesitation from anyone but Luminara Unduli, and the comm shut off. Suddenly the shuura she’d sliced so carefully seemed much less appealing.

* * *

The courtyard was something of a last resort.

Barriss could have gone anywhere; a silent, empty classroom or private antechamber were her usual choices for meditation. Failing that she could just as easily have gone to her quarters. But in her current state, with that constant itch of disconnect scratching at her concentration, the thought of isolating herself further was a horror.

Her guard, as usual, didn’t comment on the change in routine. They never commented on anything if she didn’t ask them directly. She was thankful for that, though she knew they must have picked up on a lot just from being near her. She realized they were likely reporting to the Council, but it was hard to care. She wasn’t hiding anything.

Though part of her hoped that they didn’t mention the times she had cried herself to sleep.

The Guard didn’t go far, but they gave her a few meters of space as she settled on her knees under one of the scraggly trees in the courtyard. It was a pleasant day, so there were more than a few Jedi milling about, training or meditating or just talking. This was a good choice.

Her first deep breath was thin, unsteady; it served more to call attention to her tense muscles and shaky center than anything else. Barriss closed her eyes, clenched and unclenched her hands, and took another, slower breath. Tried to feel the slight breeze, the sunlight filtering through the leaves. Everything had a presence in the Force, and she was connected to everything. She was wise enough, at least, not to try to rush herself into a trance. Relax. She could almost hear her master’s voice. _Let yourself be. The rest will follow._

She started near herself—the slow flow of life in the tree and the grass beneath it, the warmth radiating off the sunlit stone. Then, letting her mind expand at its own pace, she moved out. The solid, unmoving presence of the Guard was an unexpected comfort. They knew who and what they were, and that surety radiated back to her and helped to quiet some of her own insecurities.

With that calm, the presence of others in the courtyard began to filter through. There was a young pair not far off—a Knight and her Padawan, neither of whom Barriss knew—going through a series of slow, fluid stretches. Barriss smiled slightly. It was a very basic routine, beginner level. She remembered it from early in her own apprenticeship. This pair must be very recently matched, and her sense of them in the Force confirmed it. The Padawan was nervous but filled with a shy wonder; the Knight hopeful if hesitant. Already their bond was beginning to flourish.

And beyond them, as well, there were connections. A pair of Knights having a discussion in the shade; several more reading or just enjoying the afternoon. Much less constrained emotions rolled off the group of younglings playing across the courtyard, kicking a ball between them.

None of it exactly perfect, none of it forming any kind of strict pattern, but it felt right. The imperfections were what made it beautiful. The slight cramp in the Knight’s shoulder that she was gamely attempting to ignore for her new Padawan’s sake; the Master on the other side of the courtyard who was too exhausted to focus on what he was reading but was attempting to make sense of it anyway. Even the unexplained annoyance spiking from the senior Padawan in charge of the youngling clan.

This was right, the Force whispered. And it was part of her, always. She wasn’t alone. This was _life_. Beautiful by virtue of existence.

It would have been the peace she needed, if the connections hadn’t begun to sour.

It started slowly. The young Knight’s focus began to slip first, replaced by wariness as she placed a hand on her Padawan’s shoulder. They hadn’t finished their exercise yet, but she still moved the boy off. And that didn’t make sense, somehow, it was only confusing him, he wondered if he’d done something wrong…

The others were beginning to move away as well. The pair of Knights at least didn’t have as much of an emotional shift; they simply turned and walked away, still talking. But others were also moving—inside, out of the sun, perhaps, but in reaction to some discomfort that felt deeper than mere heat. Nothing huge, nothing that would even have caught Barriss’ attention on its own, but it was the nudge needed to push them on their way. Even the tired Master got up and left, though he seemed mostly to be reacting to the others.

The Padawan minder’s annoyance had shifted to outright hostility long ago, and she was gathering her cohort and shooing them back inside by the time the gradual exodus had reached the point where Barriss could no longer ignore it.

She opened her eyes. Meditation would not come now.

For a moment, Barriss wished she was less perceptive. Wished that Master Luminara hadn’t trained her to read emotions so clearly in the Force. She knew exactly why the courtyard had emptied so quickly.

“Well,” she said quietly as she pulled herself to her feet. “I certainly know how to clear a room.”

The guard, as usual, didn’t reply.

Barriss stood there for several minutes, trying to gather the motivation to relocate. She would never be able to meditate like this, she was too distracted to do any research… she didn’t have any reason to go anywhere, really. Except that she couldn’t bear to stay _here_.

She shook her head. She’d just go to the training salle and pray someone would be willing to spar with her. Even if she couldn’t even look them in the eye. It would be _something_ , at least…

“Barriss! Over here!”

She almost jumped at the outburst, shouted from halfway across the courtyard. But she couldn’t hold back a smile, even before she turned to see Ahsoka waving her over.

“Ahsoka. It’s good to see you.”

Ahsoka grinned at her, but the expression faded quickly. “You have _got_ to help me. I’m pretty sure Padmé and Anakin are fighting again. There is _no_ way I’m getting in the middle of that, so I told Master Skywalker I had a report to write on the adaptogenic qualities of extraterrestrial flora. He offered to proofread it for me tomorrow.”

Barriss felt a hint of existential dread begin to well up inside her, but at least it was a nice change from her usual flavor of existential dread. “And?”

“I don’t even know what that _means!_ ”

“ _Ahsoka!_ ”

Ahsoka threw her hands in the air. “I panicked, okay?”

Barriss shook her head, unable to stop herself from laughing. “How do you get yourself into these situations?”

“Anakin’s fault,” Ahsoka insisted.

Barriss sighed. _You shouldn’t speak about your master that way_ was on the tip of her tongue, but instead she just said, “I wrote a ten-page essay on the subject several years ago. I’m sure you can work from that.”

Ahsoka beamed.

* * *

* * *

 Obi-Wan knew something was wrong even before he heard the shouting.

A sense of nebulous unease was, unfortunately, growing increasingly common in the Temple. As the war dragged on and the battles grew bloodier and more desperate, the tension was becoming palpable even here. But this was something different. Much less existential. An unease that radiated from about fifty Jedi who were incredibly uncomfortable and wanted very badly to be somewhere else.

And Anakin. He could definitely sense Anakin.

He sighed. _Why am I not surprised?_

Whatever disturbance his former Padawan was making, it was coming from the courtyard outside, a level down from him. He quickened his pace until the muffled sound of raised voices could be heard nearby. Grimacing, he stepped out onto a balcony that overlooked the scene.

Ahsoka’s was the first voice he heard.

“ _You can’t do this!_ ”

Neither Anakin nor Ahsoka seemed to be aware of the audience they were gathering. They were facing off in the center of the courtyard—if anyone had been sitting near them, they had very wisely vacated the area so as to leave empty space within conceivable lightsaber range. Thankfully, it hadn’t escalated to that point.

Yet.

He glanced at Shaak Ti, who stood a few feet away in the shadow of a pillar. The Togruta Master leaned against the railing with a pained expression. “How long have they been at it?”

“They’ve been arguing for several minutes,” she answered. “With no signs of stopping.”

“Dare I ask what started it?”

Shaak Ti sighed. She seemed about to reply when she was interrupted by another shout from the courtyard.

“Barriss is my _friend_ , Anakin!”

Obi-Wan groaned and fought the urge to put his hands over his face. _Of course_.

“She’s a traitor to the Republic,” Anakin snapped. “She’s a bad influence, I don’t want you around her, and that’s an order!”

Ahsoka made a strangled, incredulous noise. “You can’t _order_ me not to associate with other Jedi!”

“Yes,” Anakin said, and there was a dark curl of anger under the word that made Obi-Wan stiffen. “I _can!_ And I don’t care what the Council says, _Barriss is no Jedi!_ ”

There was a sharp intake of breath from Shaak Ti, but she shook her head when Obi-Wan looked over at her.

“Am I the only one who remembers that she _didn’t hurt anyone?_ ” Ahsoka was demanding, gesturing wildly and looking at Anakin like she was meeting him for the first time. “She made a mistake—”

“Oh, she _accidentally_ tried to plant a bomb in the Temple! Ahsoka, are you serious?!”

“I didn’t _say_ it was an accident!” Ahsoka took a few steps toward him, and Obi-Wan found himself gripping the rail. “She knows she was wrong—”

Even from a distance, Obi-Wan knew that his former Padawan was rolling his eyes. “Right, she said she was _sorry_ , that makes it better.”

“You— _let me finish!_ ” Ahsoka all but screamed, shoving a finger in Anakin’s face. “She screwed up and she feels _awful_ about it, Master, I can’t abandon her now!”

“Abandon.” Anakin threw his arms up in exasperation. “You can’t _abandon_ her after she stabbed all of us in the back?!”

“No,” Ahsoka said. “I can’t. And she didn’t stab us in the back, or have you forgotten that she _stopped_ that bomb from going off?”

Anakin snorted dismissively. “She got cold feet,” he said, stepping forward and crowding Ahsoka back. She glared back up at him and didn’t budge. “Ahsoka, I’m your master—”

Ahsoka pushed at his chest. “And Barriss is my friend, and she needs me—now more than _ever!_ ”

Anakin knocked her hand aside with a disgusted sound. “What she needs is a good pair of stun cuffs and a solid door. You don’t have to like it, but you are _not_ spending time with her! That’s final!”

Ahsoka was practically shaking with rage; Obi-Wan could feel something in the Force fracture until she finally gave a wordless yell and shoved her master away. As she spun on her heel she seemed to register the crowd for the first time, levelled a glare at them that stung with condemnation Obi-Wan could feel even from this distance, and then ran out of the courtyard.

“Ahsoka! _Ahsoka!_ ” Anakin yelled impotently before realizing that she wasn’t coming back, then started after her.

“I’m going down there,” Obi-Wan said. “Someone has to talk sense into him.”

Shaak Ti turned to raise an eyebrow at him. “You think that Padawan Tano is in the right, then?”

Obi-Wan frowned. “I think that she’s going to do what she wants regardless of his wishes on this matter, and if he doesn’t let it go she may never forgive him.” He sighed. “Her actions aside, I’m glad Barriss didn’t have to see that.”

“No,” Shaak Ti said softly before nodding at the dispersing crowd. “But Master Unduli did.”

Obi-Wan followed her line of sight. Sure enough, Luminara was sitting on a bench not far from where the argument had taken place, easy to miss, with her head bent towards the ground and her arms folded in her lap.

He felt a brief pang of sorrow for his old friend, then left to intercept Anakin before he made the situation even worse. 

* * *

Even though she assumed Kenobi had run off to care of it, part of Shaak Ti wanted to give Anakin Skywalker a piece of her mind about how inappropriate that entire display had been. Quite aside from anything else, Barriss Offee was barely more than a child. A grown Knight had no excuse for the utter lack of compassion Skywalker had demonstrated.

Though even more concerning than that was the reaction from the crowd. For the most part, it had been uneasiness rather than outrage. She had a bad feeling that on some level, many of them had agreed with Skywalker’s sentiment—with the obvious exception of one. Shaak Ti wondered if Skywalker had known that Luminara Unduli was present for the scene, and if he hadn’t, she wondered whether knowing would have stopped him from causing it.

The most she could say for him was that it was entirely likely he _hadn’t_ realized. There were sharp angles throughout the courtyard, intended to provide shade and slightly more places for groups to sit near one another. Master Unduli had by sheer chance been around a corner, easily visible from the balcony but perhaps not from where Skywalker had been standing.

The courtyard was emptying in record time—no one, apparently, had any desire to stay and attempt to work around the awkward silence. The only one who hadn’t moved was the small, sad figure of Luminara Unduli.

Shaak Ti shook her head, and turned toward the nearest staircase.

Part of her had hoped Luminara would have left by the time she entered the courtyard. Master Unduli was resilient, it wasn’t unreasonable to hope she wouldn’t be too deeply wounded by careless words.

But Luminara was still there when Shaak Ti walked into the courtyard. Sighing, she walked over to the Mirialan’s bench, gathered her robes, and sat down next to her.

“Master Ti.” Luminara’s voice was soft as always, but there was a thread of exhaustion running under it as she stared dully at the ground. “How can I help you?”

It was a long moment before she could answer. There was very little one could say, in the face of that kind of pain.

“I believe Skywalker was out of line,” she said finally, as gently as she could.

“Someone was going to say it sooner or later,” said Luminara, who didn’t take her eyes off the ground. “Though I can’t say I’m surprised it was Skywalker.”

Under different circumstances, it might have pulled a smile out of her; but there was such a deep current of pain and confusion in the words that Shaak Ti had to resist an urge to hug the woman.

“No more surprised than you were to find Padawan Tano defending her?” she suggested.

Luminara didn’t answer for a long time. “Not surprised, but...I wasn’t sure that she would, either. Ahsoka may be one of Barriss’ only true friends, but that was no guarantee that she would...remain one.”

When it seemed like Luminara had nothing else to say, Shaak Ti spoke up. “Perhaps Ahsoka sees more clearly than we give her credit for. Master Unduli…” She hesitated. “Skywalker does not speak for the Order.”

“Master Ti,” Luminara started. She finally sat up and looked at her with a dubious expression. “You know as well as I that the only reason he was the first to say it is because the others are too polite. Can you honestly say most of the Order does not agree with him?”

Silence.

No. She couldn’t. Not honestly, and she respected Master Unduli too much to lie to her at a time like this. “This was not our intention when we confined Barriss to the Temple,” was all she trusted herself to say.

Luminara smiled, or tried to. Having been lucky enough to see a handful of Luminara Unduli’s rare, unguarded smiles, Shaak Ti’s eyes tightened at the wry tiredness in this one.

“No,” Luminara said quietly. “You would never intend to be that cruel.” 

* * *

* * *

 

Obi-Wan sighed.

He’d gotten turned around _again_. How was it that he’d used these archives for over thirty years and still managed to get lost in them? All he’d wanted was to find the file on the next planet he and the 212th were being deployed to, but somehow he had wound up in the jurisprudence section. Which, incidentally, was far larger than it had any right to be.

“Excuse me,” he began, waving down a restock droid as it buzzed along, pushing an antigrav bin full of data blocks. “I’m looking for—”

The droid whizzed past without so much as twitching its optics.

“Well then,” he said with a huff.

If he kept walking, he would eventually run into Jocasta Nu, whose knowledge of the Archives bordered on frightening; or at least a Padawan who could point him to the exit if nothing else.

“...shouldn’t joke about things like that.”

The voice sounded like a younger one, probably a small group of Padawans gossiping in the next aisle. Obi-Wan smiled to himself and hoped that Master Jocasta wasn’t near, for their sakes. He had been on the receiving end of her lectures for doing the same thing on many occasions.

He had almost moved out of earshot when he heard a name that made him stop in his tracks.

They were talking about Ahsoka.

Now he couldn’t resist his curiosity. Obi-Wan turned around and retraced his steps, stopping once there was only one bookcase separating him from the Padawans.

“Who said it was a joke? Offee’s got her wrapped around her finger _somehow_.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and resisted the urge to run around the bookcase and give them a lecture that would put Jocasta Nu to shame. He should have known it would be something like this, after the scene Anakin and Ahsoka had made the day before.

“Right, have you seen the way those two carry on?” said another, female voice. “It’s like Tano doesn’t even care what she did. Offee must be good to turn her against her own _master_.”

“It’s a damn shame. Everything Tano’s accomplished, and she loses it over some Seppie sympathizer?”

“Leave it to the traitor to ruin that.”

“Well, I for one can’t blame her,” said one of the others in the group.

That was met with sharp exclamations of shock from the rest of them.

“Hey,” the same voice said. “I’m just saying, Offee’s got good taste. If I was going to seduce someone to the Dark Side…”  
  
“Literally,” piped up one of his friends, to general laughter.

“Exactly. Tano’s a great choice! Talented duelist, strong in the Force...”

“Easy on the eyes,” another interrupted slyly.

They laughed again at that, and Obi-Wan had officially had _enough_. He stormed around the corner and the mirth died immediately. Several of the teenage Padawans jumped at least a foot in the air; one, who’d been leaning against a bookshelf, lost his balance and knocked several holobooks off it.

“Do you not have something you should be doing, young ones?” He asked, glaring at each of them. “Or is speculating on your fellow Padawans all any of you have time for?”

There was a fast, babbled storm of apologies and “Yes, Master Kenobi”s as the group scattered into the shelves.

Obi-Wan stood there for several seconds after they had fled, then sighed and moved on. Ahsoka hadn’t done anything to deserve this kind of talk behind her back, but she must have known that it would happen when she very openly aligned herself with a social pariah. And she did care, Obi-Wan knew, even if she would claim otherwise if asked. Ahsoka craved validation from her peers as much as she craved it from Anakin; hearing herself dismissed so easily would tear her to pieces. Which is why Obi-Wan didn’t see any need to mention it to her. Or to Barriss, who was already being punished enough. Or to Luminara. Or Anakin. _Especially_ not Anakin.

Another stocking droid was hovering along the aisles. Obi-Wan hurried after it.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I’m trying to find the planetary surveys…”

* * *

* * *

“Hey,” Ahsoka said by way of greeting. “Catch.”

Barriss’ hand came up reflexively to catch the jogan fruit—she blinked at it as Ahsoka set a small box down at the foot of the wall and leapt to grab the ledge before hauling herself up onto it.

“Ahsoka?”

“That’s me,” she agreed, twisting herself around to sit on the ledge next to Barriss. “Sorry I’m late. One of my classes was cancelled so I made a market run.” Anakin had agreed to her excursion a little _too_ enthusiastically, probably because it would keep her away from Barriss—the irony—but she hoped it would be worth it. Barriss hadn’t had anything but Jedi rations in ages, and she had always loved different kinds of food. “Those are supposed to be good, right?”

Barriss just stared at the jogan for a few seconds, which made Ahsoka a little nervous; for all she knew, these things were poisonous to Mirialans or something. But after a few seconds Barriss swallowed, blinked a few times, and smiled at her.

“I… thank you, Ahsoka.”

“There’s a box,” Ahsoka told her, pointing at the drop while she unwrapped a protein bar for her own lunch. She waved to Barriss’ escort below them. “I thought you might like them.”

Barriss’ fingers brushed the side of her hood like she did sometimes when she was nervous, but she was still smiling when she bit into the fruit. Ahsoka smiled a little herself when she saw her friend’s obvious pleasure.

“They’re good,” she confirmed quietly, glancing over and smiling wider before she ducked her head again. “Ahsoka, thank you, really— _ah!_ ”

Ahsoka frowned. Barriss had been trying to shift her weight so that she could turn and face each other more easily; the exclamation had accompanied a hard flinch as she clutched the lip of their ledge and grimaced through obvious pain.

“Barriss? What’s wrong?”

Barriss smiled at her again, but this time it was tight and forced. “I’m fine, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka wasn’t letting her off that easily. “That didn’t sound like fine.”

“Really, it’s nothing to worry about.” Barriss gingerly placed a hand over her side. “It’s only a pair of ribs. I’m a healer. I’ll be fine in a few hours.”

Ahsoka stared at her incredulously. “What do you mean _only_ a pair of ribs? How in the universe did you hurt yourself that bad at the _Temple?_ ”

“Sparring.” Barriss wouldn’t meet her eyes, instead turning her attention back to her fruit. “Really, Ahsoka, it’s fine.”

Ahsoka clenched a fist. “This is the third time this week you’ve had a so-called _sparring accident_.”

“Yes,” Barriss said in a small voice. “I’m...out of practice.”

“That’s bantha drek and you know it, Barriss.” Barriss’ decision to start sparring again—with a training saber, a humiliation that bothered Ahsoka more than it did Barriss—had made Ahsoka uneasy from the beginning, and this was the last confirmation of her suspicions that she needed. “Who were you sparring with this time?”

Barriss made a consternated expression. “It’s _fine_. I’m fine.”

Ahsoka’s frown deepened as she watched Barriss use the Force to pull up another fruit and eat it. Training accidents happened. It was all part of the learning process. Ahsoka had cracked a rib or two in her time, along with any other number of minor injuries. But a Padawan of Barriss’ experience shouldn’t come out of every session bruised and bloody.

“A broken nose, a sprained ankle, and two cracked ribs in _one week_.”

Barriss looked away. “Yes, well, I’m getting good practice with my healing.”

Ahsoka somehow managed not to strangle her. “You can’t just let them keep doing this to you!” When Barriss refused to look back at her, she crossed her arms. “Let me see it.”

“Unless you’ve suddenly become a healer, I can’t imagine what good that could possibly do.”

“ _Barriss_.”

Setting her fruit aside and still avoiding eye contact, Barriss slowly untucked her shirt and lifted the hem enough that Ahsoka got an extremely good look at the ugly, mottled purple bruising along her ribs. After a few moments, she looked away. Barriss pulled her shirt back down in silence.

Ahsoka studied the courtyard below them until she stopped seeing red.

“Who were you sparring with?” she asked through clenched teeth.

“Ahsoka…”

“ _Who were you sparring with?_ ”

Barriss shook her head. “I don’t need to be protected.”

Ahsoka threw her hands in the air. “Well you’re obviously not doing it yourself!” Her friend winced, and she added, “If I need to knock some manners into your sparring partners—”

“You don’t!” Barriss leaned forward and put her head in her hands. “Don’t cause trouble on my behalf. It’s no less than I deserve.”

“Don’t say that,” Ahsoka muttered automatically. After grinding her teeth for a few moments, she finally said, “Fine. If I promise not to go find them and throw them off the roof of the Temple, will you at least tell me who’s been doing this to you?”

After a long moment of hesitation, Barriss nodded.

* * *

 “Hey. Vistor.”

Effer Vistor looked up from his geology notes gratefully—how many chapters could there be about different kinds of _sand?—_ and grinned at the pretty young Togruta who was perched on the table next to him. “Please,” he said, offering a hand. “I’m Effer to my friends.”

She flashed him a smile that threw her incisors into sharp focus and answered sweetly, “Ahsoka Tano.”

Was that supposed to scare him? Some of the younger Padawans were looking between them like they were waiting for his head to roll; he just returned her smile and shook her hand. He didn’t approve of her choice of friends and he doubted her master could possibly approve of the obvious attachment she had to her traitor—certainly _his_ master didn’t—but Padawan Tano had a shining service record with the Order, and if she’d come here looking for a fight she would be disappointed. Whatever stories she’d heard about him, he intended to prove false. Maybe then she would see through this fit of teenage rebellion.

“What can I do for you, Ahsoka?” he asked pleasantly.

She made a motion that could have been either brushing herself down or wiping her hand on her thigh as her eyes narrowed slightly. “Will you be training today?”

“I train _every_ day,” he said pointedly. “As you should, young Padawan.”

“Today then.” The lightness in her tone didn’t change, but just for a second there was a flash of something predatory in her eyes. “You feel up to a sparring match? In, say, one hour?”

Effer sighed. “I don’t want to hurt you, Padawan Tano. Maybe in a few years.”

She didn’t seem perturbed by the refusal. Disappointed, perhaps. “That’s a shame,” she sighed. “I’ve heard about your fighting style and I thought I’d like to try myself against you. We never seem to be training at the same time.”

Well. That actually spoke better of her than he’d expected. Some impulsive argument or desire for revenge—though why she bothered he had no idea—that was to be expected. But this was a perfectly natural request from someone her age. Maybe she wasn’t as obsessed with Offee as she seemed.

“What makes you think we’ll be well-matched?”

Ahsoka shrugged, leaning back with a small grin. “We won’t be. But my master always says it’s the duty of more experienced Padawans to teach less experienced ones, so I thought I’d ask. But if you’re not feeling up to it, that’s fine. I can always ask Barriss.”

He didn’t bother hiding the expression of distaste. “That’s not necessary, Padawan Tano. I don’t trust _her_ in a situation like that. Forgive me, I’ve been ungracious. I’d be more than happy to train with you.”

“Great.” He blinked at the sudden professionalism in her voice. She hopped down from the table and shot him a decidedly unflattering look. “One hour. Don’t keep me waiting.”

* * *

He kept her waiting.

Well, not exactly, Ahsoka allowed. He did show up exactly an hour later...not yet in training gear, surrounded by a group of friends, without having done anything to warm up. It was at least another half-hour before he was ready for their match.

 _Typical_.

Effer Vistor was the kind of nineteen-year-old boy who was handsome and knew it. He was nothing all that special; a deep purple Twi’lek whose robes always seemed to be just open enough to show off a little more of his chest than absolutely necessary. Ahsoka had never spared him any real thought before except to roll her eyes.

When he finally finished his stretches and crossed over to the training ring, Ahsoka flipped down from the set of high bars she’d been hanging from and snapped her sabers live.

Vistor smiled at her as she stepped onto the mat. “We’ll start slow,” he assured her.

 _Don’t count on it, lowlife_.

He twirled his blue blade in a lazy circle at his side as she swung into a ready position.

“Would you feel more comfortable with a lowered power setting?” he offered. “Accidents can happen. I don’t want to scare you.”

“Believe me,” she growled. “You don’t.”

The first blow sliced the flowing end of his sleeve off before he had time to react.

“What the—” He stumbled backward, eyes wide, but before he could say anything else Ahsoka swung high with her shoto. Vistor blocked it, and then she made a low slash with her main saber. She slowed herself enough to give him time to dodge—predictably, he jumped—then swung a kick into his gut that sent him flying back to the edge of the ring.

He was more careful now.

Vistor was trying to circle, to feel her weaknesses; she didn’t give him the chance. He knocked aside her first swipe easily, then made the mistake of forcing her into bladelock on the second. Rather than disengage one blade and take his hand off, Ahsoka took the marginally less cruel and infinitely more obvious route, and kicked him in the groin as hard as she could.

She had to give credit where it was due; he kept hold of his lightsaber. The power behind the blow was gone, however, and she swept the blade aside and stepped back to wait for him.

She didn’t have to wait long—and this time he didn’t hold back. The defense Ahsoka threw up to block his hard cut at her arm wasn’t feigned; he immediately spun into an overhead strike that she was forced to dodge. It wasn’t hard to believe that Barriss, in her distracted state, would suffer from the sheer strength behind his attacks.

Well, she wasn’t Barriss.

An aggressive move at Vistor’s flank was caught by a parry that forced her to switch on the fly to a standard grip or lose her main saber entirely, but opened him up for a counterattack if she was quick enough. A blue lightsaber slashed down in an attempt to dissuade her; she caught it in the cross of her blades and landed a solid kick behind his knee, forcing him down. He rolled and kicked out before she had a chance to press the sudden advantage, but half a step back was all it took to dodge.

Ahsoka could feel irritation rolling off him as he pulled himself to his feet—too slowly, if she’d been Ventress or Grievous he would be dead. She’d almost been expecting a Twi’lek version of Anakin, but Vistor was just an arrogant bully taking advantage of the fact that Barriss was terrified of hurting anyone in a sparring session. Ahsoka wasn’t certain he even had real combat experience outside of battle droids. _Shiny_ , Rex would have called him. The thought made her grin, and she let her opponent stand with nothing more vicious than a smirk.

He glanced at his friends, who had stopped talking and laughing amongst themselves and were now watching with interest. They’d actually gathered quite a crowd, from what Ahsoka could see in her peripheral vision; other Padawans who had been training, a handful of advanced younglings, even what looked like a few knights and Masters in the background.

Vistor rolled his shoulders and shifted his grip to hold his saber in both hands. “You make good use of your second blade,” he said, like he still thought he could pretend he was teaching her. “It obviously gives you an advantage. Is that what you’re trying to prove?”

Wordlessly, making no effort to keep her disdain from ringing in the Force, Ahsoka switched off her shoto and tossed it aside.

For a moment he seemed thrown, and Ahsoka realized he had been trying to anger her, trying to force her to charge him, challenge him, lose her focus. _You don’t know me_ , she thought as she crouched low, emerald blade humming at her back, waiting for him to make his mistake. _You don’t know her, either_.

This time she _felt_ the attack coming. By the time he’d moved, Ahsoka was ready for him.

He rushed in, trying to close quickly, to use his weight to his advantage. She let him. He feinted to her left, swept in from the right with all his strength behind it—the mistake she had been waiting for. She dropped, barely had to move her arm to catch his attack on a diagonal that swept it over her head, and then surged up and inside his guard. She twisted, flicked her saber off, and brought the butt of the hilt down, hard, against the inside of his wrist.

His lightsaber clattered inert along the floor, and she stepped back out of his guard as he lost his footing and fell to his knees. She could have put her own blade to his throat, claimed her victory. She clipped it to her belt. She didn’t need it. A glance over her shoulder spotted her distance, and Vistor’s eyes widened as he realized the finishing blow was still coming. His hands started to come up to cover his face—too slow. Too slow again.

The entire salle flinched in the instant before the strike. Ahsoka pivoted sharply on her back foot, sweeping around and leaping into a devastating spin-kick. Her leg flashed out—

—and snapped back just as quickly, cuffing her opponent upside the head with no more harmful force than a friendly shove as she pulled the blow at the last possible second.

While Vistor and their impromptu audience tried to figure out what had just happened, Ahsoka called her shoto and returned it to her belt before reaching out to her opponent.

“Thanks for the match,” she said neutrally.

He stared at her hand like he’d never seen one before.

“I...” he stammered, before finally taking it and letting her help him to his feet. “I, um…”

She crossed her arms and smirked. “I get that a lot.”

He laughed nervously. “Yeah. Hey, uh…thanks for not following through on that last kick, you’d have had me out cold.”

She smiled at him. It didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Please,” she said, with a careless wave of a hand and a much more calculated flash of pointed teeth. “What kind of Jedi wouldn’t pull their blows in a _sparring session?_ ”

Ahsoka hadn’t thought the room could get any quieter, but somehow it did. She looked straight into his eyes until he dropped his gaze in what she hoped was shame, then turned without a word, grabbed her towel, and walked away.

* * *

* * *

Barriss deactivated her lighter with a faint click.

Some part of her was still darkly amused the Council had let her keep it, but apparently even they didn’t think her capable of burning the Temple to the ground with a handheld lighter. She shook her head sharply. That was too close to resentment.

She waited until the flames of her pair of meditation candles, the only light in the room, stopped dancing and settled before closing her eyes and resting her hands on her knees. For several minutes she let the breath come naturally, without trying to correct the irregularities; letting herself relax and become aware of the pattern. Then, carefully, she began to regulate it. Deeper, slower, steadier.

 _Negative emotions exist in all living things. The presence of these emotions is natural, but we cannot allow them to rule us_. So much easier said than done when they were thrown at her all day, every day, from all sides. Anger and suspicion and disdain—like struggling through knee-deep water every waking moment and many sleeping ones, and then being lectured to just walk normally.

 _The heart of a Jedi is formed in stillness. The Force speaks to us most clearly through peace, and peace can only be found when you let the turbulence settle_. If she was wading every moment then there was something to be said for standing still, resting, and letting the water flow around her. Acknowledge your emotions, and then let them go. _Let the turbulence be washed away in the flow of the Force—_

She was on the verge of slipping into trance when the sound of the door chime brought her back to reality. Barriss sighed and opened her eyes. Letting go of her minor irritation at being interrupted, she cleared her throat and said “Enter.”

The light from the hallway wasn’t very bright, but it still took her a second to adjust to the change. But when she saw who was standing in the doorway with a crooked grin and a bag over her shoulder, Barriss’ annoyance disappeared entirely. She got to her feet and returned the smile. “Ahsoka! How can I help you?”

“Why are all the lights off?” Ahsoka asked in reply, setting her pack down on Barriss’ mat and squinting around the room. “It’s not that late.” After a moment it seemed to register to her, and a consternated look crossed Ahsoka’s face. “Oh! I’m sorry. Were you meditating?”

Barriss held up a hand in a calming gesture. “It’s fine, Ahsoka,” she said. “I have plenty of time to meditate. I’m glad you’re here.”

The grin was back. “Good. I brought you something.”

Barriss sat down on the edge of the bed while Ahsoka rummaged through her pack. Her friend’s good mood was infectious, and she had to fight down a wide smile. “Oh, really?” She flicked her fingers as an afterthought, bringing the lights back up so they could see. “Another fruit run?”

Ahsoka gave a suspiciously innocent hum, tossing a handful of holovid cases onto the mattress and giving a cry of triumph as she apparently found what she was looking for. “Not exactly,” she said, and pulled out a glass bottle.

Barriss took it curiously, and her eyebrows flew up as she examined the label.

“Ahsoka,” she asked. “What are you doing with a bottle of Alderaanian wine?” _Expensive_ Alderaanian wine. She hadn’t gotten _this_ on a Padawan’s allowance.

“Oh, it was in Master Kenobi’s room.” Apparently foreseeing Barriss’ next question, Ahsoka continued. “He won’t mind, he steals them from Padmé all the time. And I think she gets them from Senator Organa? So this is the real thing.”

“Aren’t you underage?”

“What?” Ahsoka shook her head and made a dismissive noise. “No, legal age for Togruta on Coruscant is sixteen. I’m fine.”

Barriss looked at her for several seconds, then reached over to her nightstand and picked up a datapad.

“What are you doing?”

“Running a holonet search for the legal Togruta drinking age on Coruscant,” Barriss replied promptly.

Ahsoka gave her one of the most heartbroken looks she’d ever seen. “You don’t trust me?!”

“No,” she said, stifling a laugh under her breath as the results popped up. “But you’re right.”

“See?” Ahsoka dropped onto the mattress and twisted the locking mechanism on the bottle’s magnetic seal, which opened with a pop. “We’re having a vid night.”

“Are we?”

“Yup.” Ahsoka grinned, toasted her with the bottle, and took a swig from it that made Barriss wince even before her friend started coughing violently.

“You know, you’re really too young for that kind of thing,” she felt obligated to point out. “Despite what the law says about it.”

Barriss made a mental note not to let Ahsoka drink too much—she remembered all too well what _that_ felt like. And yet, when she was offered the bottle, she just shook her head and accepted it. There was something oddly _charming_ about the whole thing.

“All right,” she said, clearing her throat several times to shake off the burn. “What vids did you bring?”

“Uh,” said Ahsoka. “Bad ones.”

* * *

Considerably more of the Alderaanian wine than planned and the utterly atrocious B-list holovid _The Secluded Citadel_ later, Barriss stared at the end credits in amused horror.

“That was _terrible!_ ”

Ahsoka laughed happily from where her head was resting against Barriss’ stomach. “I know, right?”

“I—that’s not how Jedi work! The Force doesn’t—I mean, Force _healing_ glows, but—and the lightsaber combat! What was that, a drunken Ataru imitation? Lightsabers don’t even look like that!”

Ahsoka sighed fondly. “I think they used up their special effects budget on the explosions.”

Barriss shook her head. “I don’t think anyone involved in this ever even met a Jedi.”

Ahsoka snorted with laughter. “I know, that’s what makes it funny!”

Barriss couldn’t help but laugh softly at that. “It was certainly interesting,” she acknowledged, running her fingers along Ahsoka’s lekku. She started suddenly as she realized what she was doing; she’d been absently petting her for most of the movie, ever since they’d curled up together to watch it. She was surprised Ahsoka hadn’t protested.

“I’m so sorry,” she sputtered. She could feel her cheeks flushing. “I can stop?”

Ahsoka hummed and cuddled closer. “Don’t. It feels nice.”

Barriss blushed even deeper and suddenly felt like sinking into the floor. “But I...I thought lekku were, um—I mean, I don’t want you to think...”

There was a pause, and Ahsoka suddenly burst out laughing. She rolled onto her back to look up at Barriss with a sharp-toothed grin.

“ _Barriss Offee_ ,” she said with what was probably meant to be sternness, but was ruined by the fact that she was failing to hold back her laughter. “Have you been watching Togruta porn-vids?”

Barriss gaped at her. “No! I just—I would _never!_ I—you’ve let me do that before, and I was wondering what it actually felt like for you, so I...”

Ahsoka’s mirth turned vaguely horrified. “You didn’t look it up on the holonet, did you?”

Barriss let herself fall back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling; part of her hoped that it would collapse on her. “It was _awful_ ,” she moaned. “I thought that _togruta lekku sensitivity_ was a perfectly innocent search topic!”

Ahsoka pushed herself up onto one elbow and gave her a pitying look. “Okay, okay, let me correct the kind of _facts_ ”—she made mocking quotes with her fingers as she said the word—“that I’m sure you learned.”

“Please,” Barriss squeaked.

She must have looked a very special mixture of traumatized and pathetic, because Ahsoka’s lips twitched again as she stretched out at Barriss’ side.

“Here,” she said kindly. “Give me your hand.” Barriss obliged, and Ahsoka gave it a reassuring squeeze before placing it over one of her lekku. “When it’s just over the outside like that?” she said. “That’s just skin and muscle.” She ran a hand over her own bicep and nodded. “Kind of like that. It’s no different from touching my arm or my shoulder. Okay?”

Blushing a bit at her assumptions, Barriss nodded and started to pull her hand back, then paused. “Just the outside?”

Luckily, Ahsoka didn’t seem to find the question insensitive. “It’s nothing bad,” Barriss was assured. “Just different.” Her fingers were guided gently around to the softer skin on the underside of her friend’s right lek. Ahsoka hesitated, then took the hand Barriss wasn’t using and carefully pushed the sleeve up past her elbow.

“It’s a little like… this,” she said, drawing two feather-light fingers down the inside of Barriss’ wrist. “It doesn’t have to be...you know. It’s just…”

“Intimate,” murmured Barriss.

Ahsoka smiled down at her. “Yeah.” The delicate stroke repeated itself, and Barriss shivered. “Does that make you uncomfortable?”

Barriss respected her enough to think about it.

“No,” she decided. It felt…nice. Most physical contact _did_ make her very uncomfortable, but Ahsoka was one of the very few people that she didn’t mind it from. Though she thought there was a chance the alcohol may have had something to do with it, which was unsettling.

Ahsoka squeezed her fingers. “Don’t worry, you’re not the only one. That’s a myth that refuses to die off, like the one about us being venomous.” Her smile got wider, showing off her teeth. “I _wish_ that one was true. Helps our reputation.”

Barriss laughed, letting her fingertips wander down Ahsoka’s lek and enjoying the softness, the way her friend leaned into her touch almost without realizing it. “I can imagine it would.”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka said, then she rolled her eyes. “The lekku one we’d rather not have to live with, though. You know how many people act like it’s some kind of exotic magic button?”

Barriss tried very hard not to think about how Ahsoka might have encountered that problem.

“I should’ve just asked you about it, then,” Barriss said in an attempt to steer the conversation away from the subject. “I can’t _imagine_ what Master Luminara thought when she read that in my browsing history.”

For a moment, Ahsoka laughed; then she seemed to do a double-take, frowned, and sat up.

“Why was Luminara in your browsing history?” she asked, still half-smiling like she expected a joke or a story.

“Master Luminara,” Barriss corrected reflexively; then, “She receives a live feed of all my holonet activity and communications. Archive records as well, I believe.” She shook her head, blushing still. “Thankfully she was kind enough not to mention that incident.”

Ahsoka was staring at her. “A live record? They monitor _everything_ you look up?”

Barriss blinked. “Of course,” she said. “It was one of the Council’s conditions for my probation. A Council member was going to be assigned as my monitor, but Master Unduli requested the live record go to her instead out of respect for my privacy. I’m grateful that they agreed to it.”

Ahsoka stared at her.

“...What?” Barriss asked after a moment, and Ahsoka rolled her eyes.

“Nothing,” she said. Then, “Can I see that?”

Barriss handed her the datapad. Ahsoka took it with a tight smile, pulled up a holographic keyboard, and started typing.

“So they see everything?” she asked after a few seconds, glancing up. “What do they think you’re going to do, pull up a search for How To Violently Cripple The Republic War Effort or something?”

Barriss shifted uncomfortably. “It’s more than reasonable, Ahsoka,” she muttered. “I’m hardly in a position to take offense at not being trusted. They didn’t have to let me have a holonet connection at all. If I have nothing to hide, why should I be concerned by transparency? I…consider it a way to earn some measure of trust again.”

Ahsoka looked up at her, eyes tight.

“ _I_ trust you,” she said firmly. “You did the right thing for the right reasons.”

Barriss’ smile was weak, but there. “Thank you, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka looked like she was going to say something, then shook her head and went back to tapping at Barriss’ datapad.

“So how’s your training going?”

Barriss sat forward, relieved at the change in subject. “Well,” she said honestly. “It’s going well. Master Nema’s shown me some techniques to improve my healing endurance. It can’t be rushed or forced, but over time they should help me last longer before I need to rest. I’ve been doing some independent medical research as well.” She hesitated. “And…Master Luminara has been very kind. I’m spending more time in duelling practice with her. She doesn’t let me slack off. And we’ve done several guided meditation sessions, I…they help.”

This time Ahsoka’s smile was less forced. “That’s good,” she said. “I’m glad. You haven’t had any more sparring accidents, right?”

Barriss narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “No, I haven’t.” Several of her more... _eager_ sparring partners had barely been able to meet her eyes lately, and Padawan Vistor refused to spar with her at all anymore. Ahsoka must have said something, but Barriss respected her too much to ask.

“Glad to hear it,” said Ahsoka.

She returned to typing, and Barriss couldn’t stand it anymore. “What are you working on?”

“Hmm?” Ahsoka didn’t look up. “Oh, I’m flooding your search history with HoloFet vids. The really weird ones? I figure it’s the closest we’ll get to telling the Council to go—”

“You’re _what?!_ ” Barriss lunged for the datapad, which Ahsoka promptly held above her head. “Ahsoka! _Give me that!_ ”

* * *

 Even in wartime—perhaps especially in wartime—early morning in the Temple was beautiful.

The sun was still rising. Dawn was an odd thing on Coruscant; even on the levels sunlight actually reached, day came later and ended sooner the deeper one went. The Temple was part of the highest level, and even here the walls and the light pollution from the surrounding city made it all but impossible sometimes to tell the time of day from the light alone.

Still. The sky was just beginning to grow light, there was a delicate breeze in the courtyard, and most of the Temple was still asleep. The main dining hall hadn’t even begun serving breakfast proper yet, only the lighter fare for the more ascetic Masters who were normally the only ones up at this hour.

But Luminara had found herself awake, so here she sat with a cup of tea and a plate of crispbread, reading the latest war reports on her datapad. _What a lovely thing to wake up to._

At least the tea was good.

She stifled a yawn behind her hand and tucked herself more comfortably into the corner of the little alcove she’d claimed. The war reports, she decided, would do better to wait until she was awake enough to remember which legions were stationed where. She’d just spent five minutes under the impression that she was reading an update of the Republic’s hold on Rhen Var only to abruptly run into a reference to jungle creatures.

Well, so long as she had a moment she might as well get her required check on Barriss’ HoloNet activity out of the way. There had been no change in her pattern since the monitoring protocol was put in place, but at the very least it would hold her attention.

She broke a piece of crispbread in half, dipped it in her tea, and nibbled idly at it as she closed her reports and brought up her Padawan’s records.

 

> 10:46 | HOLONET SEARCH ITEM: _Effects of common antiviral agents on Pantoran physiology_
> 
> 12:11 | ARCHIVE ITEM: _Banquets On A Budget: 101 Ways To Spice Up Your Ration Bars_
> 
> 13:59 | ARCHIVE ITEM: _The Best Of Intentions: Deadly Side Effects Of Force Healing Past Your Limitations_
> 
> 14:23 | ARCHIVE ITEM: _Five Thousand Levels Down: The Lost Surface Of Coruscant_
> 
> 20:09 | VISITOR TO QUARTERS OF PADAWAN OFFEE: _Padawan Ahsoka Tano_
> 
> 20:10 | HOLONET SEARCH ITEM: _Coruscant legal drinking age togruta_

Ahsoka visiting whenever she had the chance was nothing new, but _that_ was certainly odd. _Padawan Tano_ , Luminara thought to herself, amusement drowning out her weak attempt at disapproval. _What_ are _you up to?_ Barriss at least appeared to be making an effort at being responsible—no doubt remembering that trip with Aayla. It was reassuringly…well, _Barriss_.

 

> 22:06 | HOLONET SEARCH ITEM: _hi master luminara_

Luminara’s eyebrows raised. That was new as well; Barriss had never acknowledged that she was being monitored quite so bluntly before. Of course, evidence suggested there was a good chance she was drunk. Confused, Luminara scrolled to the next entry.

 

> 22:06 | HOLONET SEARCH ITEM: _you know how creepy this is right_

She sighed. She supposed she should have expected something like this sooner or later, no matter how readily Barriss had agreed to this particular restriction. Honestly, it was probably healthy at this point.

 

> 22:07 | HOLONET SEARCH ITEM: _holofet specialty section_

Luminara nearly choked on her tea.

 

> 22:07 | HOLONET SITE ACCESS: HOLOFET NETWORK
> 
> 22:07 | INTERNAL SEARCH: _slowmo wookiee hardcore_
> 
> 22:07 | INTERNAL SEARCH: _quarren spawn season_
> 
> 22:08 | INTERNAL SEARCH: _droid x organic bondage_
> 
> 22:08 | INTERNAL SEARCH: _hutt on hutt action_
> 
> 22:08 | INTERNAL SEARCH: _f/f/f mon calamarrrrhbfoijhjao_
> 
> 22:13 | HOLONET SEARCH ITEM: _THAT WAS AHSOKA_

The sound Luminara made was, strictly speaking, laughter. Except that it escaped in the form of an extremely undignified and hastily cut-off shriek, at which point she had to clap a hand over her mouth and set her tea aside before she spilled it over the datapad.

 

> 22:13 | HOLONET SEARCH ITEM: _MASTER I AM SO SORRY_
> 
> 22:13 | GUARD ENTERED QUARTERS OF PADAWAN OFFEE. REASON: _Raised voices, screaming, sound of a struggle. False alarm, no action taken._
> 
> 22:16 | HOLONET SEARCH ITEM: _SAY HI TO THE COUNCIL FOR US M. UNDUUUUUUUUUUIIOKP_
> 
> 22:17 | HOLONET SEARCH ITEM: _I AM SO SORRY I’M TAKING IT AWAY FROM HER_

The record ended there, which was fortunate, because Luminara was shaking with suppressed laughter and couldn’t hold the datapad still enough to read anything else. Sending a silent apology to her poor beleaguered Padawan, she set the datapad down for now, rested her head against her knees, and laughed until she cried.

* * *

* * *

 They called it “Coruscant stargazing.”

There were no stars over Coruscant, really. The light pollution meant there was hardly a night sky at all; it just turned a darker shade of blue. But the constant coming and going of speeders, the lights of the city and the shifting advertisements all along the skylanes had their own sort of beauty. Especially in a building with noise-cancelling shields like the Temple, Ahsoka thought there was something hypnotic about the glowing web of life spinning out underneath them.

Barriss might have picked an easier spot to get to, though. This corner of the Temple didn’t even have turbolifts. Ahsoka leaned against the wall of the staircase and tried to catch her breath. Any other day, she might have complained about the out-of-the-way meeting place.

Not tonight.

Barriss looked like she had been curled up in the windowsill for quite a while when Ahsoka got to her. Not surprising, really--Barriss always turned up to meetings early. Ahsoka tried to ignore the pair of guards standing several meters away from her.

“Hey,” Ahsoka said. “I brought you some more fruit.”

Barriss ducked her head almost to her knees, looking over with a smile. “You really didn’t need to do that, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka tried to return the smile, but it felt forced. “Well if you’d rather have a ration bar, I could find someone else who likes jogans...”

Barriss rolled her eyes and took the fruit, and Ahsoka’s smile became a little less stiff.

“Move over,” she said, pulling herself onto the sill next to Barriss. The window was open, letting in what passed for fresh air on Coruscant. She leaned back against the frame and let one leg dangle out over the drop. Barriss bumped a foot against hers, and Ahsoka grinned.

“It’s nice up here,” she said after a few quiet moments. Barriss sat up a little straighter, looking pleased.

“I enjoy the privacy.”

Ahsoka hoped her friend didn’t notice her wince. She tried to keep her reaction muted for Barriss’ sake, but everything the simple statement had left unsaid…

“Was there an accident over there?” she asked instead, pointing at a trail of lights that had stopped moving.

Barriss considered it. “Maybe,” she said. “Or an event of some kind. Maybe a concert.”

“Yeah.”

She should have known better than to think she could put this off. Barriss was looking at her with concern; she’d probably noticed something was off the moment Ahsoka sat down. Well, there was no sense avoiding it any longer.

Ahsoka took a deep breath to steady herself. “Barriss, I’ve got to tell you something.”

Barriss barely reacted; she lowered her gaze again, closing her eyes for a moment and fiddling with her jogan. “Yes?”

Ahsoka crossed her arms around her stomach. “I had a briefing with my master today,” she said, unable to keep the pleading tone out of her voice. “We’re getting deployed. Some place in the Outer Rim I’ve never heard of before called Ringo Vinda.”

“Oh.” Something about the way Barriss said it felt like a knife in Ahsoka’s gut.

“Barriss, I…”

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry, Ahsoka. You don’t have any control over the assignment.” Barriss took a deep breath and looked up, eyes strangely distant. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow. Oh-nine hundred.”

Barriss nodded slowly. “Do you have any idea when you’ll be back?”

Ahsoka looked away. “No, I’m sorry. The Seppies are digging their heels in all over the Rim, so they said it would...be a while. A couple months, probably. Maybe longer.”

She tried to pretend she didn’t hear Barriss’ breath hitch.

“Barriss,” she said desperately. “People are dying, most of these colonies are full of civilians—there are _kids_. I can’t...we _have_ to do something.”

“You don’t have to justify it to me. Like I said, it wasn’t your call.” Barriss looked down. “Besides, I...trust your judgement. You’ll do what’s right, I know it. I know you’d never do anything like...”

 _Krell_ , Ahsoka finished in her thoughts, but she didn’t say it aloud.

After a long, pained silence, Barriss sat up and swung her legs over the windowsill, so that she stared out over Coruscant. Ahsoka mimicked her with a sigh.

 _The war will be over soon,_ she wanted to say, but she knew Barriss wouldn’t believe it. Ahsoka wasn’t even sure if she believed it. Every time she so much as mentioned the war around Barriss, her own justifications for it felt more and more hollow.

Barriss stirred, once, like she wanted to say something; she shook her head when Ahsoka looked over, and they watched the flashing lights of emergency vehicles in the distance as the skylane jam was slowly cleared.

“Ahsoka?” Barriss finally whispered.

Ahsoka turned to look at her. Barriss looked...sad. Tired, too. More so than she had in a long time.

“What is it?”

Barriss closed her eyes, hesitated, looked back over.

“Nothing,” she said. “Just...don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

There were so many things Ahsoka wanted to say to that. To _her_. But she wasn’t Padmé. She couldn’t put the words she needed together. She wasn’t even sure she had the words at all.

“Hey,” she said instead, softly, and reached over to put her hand over her friend’s. Barriss wound their fingers together the moment they touched; her smile as she glanced up was shaky, still a little sad, but it was real. Ahsoka ran her thumb over Barriss’ fingers, and watched the distant lights of Coruscant’s night.


	2. Act I Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter: Depression, alcohol/drug reference, allusions to suicide.

Caleb Dume was having a very hard time focusing.

It wasn’t just that the lecture topic—the history of Coruscant during the New Sith Wars—was boring, or that he already knew everything he needed to on the subject, or even the anxiety his other classmates felt about when they would be chosen as Padawans.

No, Caleb kept thinking about how much he preferred his cohort’s old senior Padawan assistant to their current one. Padawan Yan Pilor looked bored out of her skull, only offering input when prompted by the rambling Master Sinube. Barriss Offee, on the other hand, had always been engaged in whatever subject they were learning, making it more interesting just from her enthusiasm.

But for some reason, she wasn’t allowed to assist them anymore. And he didn’t even know why. There was a lot of gossip and rumors about it, but surprisingly few actual facts. He hadn’t even been able to get much of anything out of Master Billaba, who typically surrendered to his questioning if he kept at it long enough. Whatever it was, the Council didn’t want mere younglings knowing about it. Not that it stopped the rumors. Most of them were disturbing, some of them were downright scary. Two words he never would have used to describe Padawan Offee.

 _Traitor, Separatist, a_ nd _Darksider_ were others, and those were just a few of the words he’d heard thrown around. Pilor had used all of them when he had asked her about it once, before telling him not to think about Offee anymore—which solidified his dislike of her. Caleb didn’t believe them. Barriss? A traitor? They might as well have said the same about Master Yoda, it made just as much sense. And yet, she had to have done _something._ Everyone knew she was under house arrest in the Temple, even without the Guards that followed her or her conspicuous lack of lightsaber. The Council wouldn’t just give that punishment without reason...

An elbow in his ribs jolted Caleb out of his thoughts. “Hey Caleb, if your eyes glaze over any more they’re going to notice.”

Caleb pushed the offending elbow—belonging to his friend Zett Jukassa—away. He couldn’t care less about this class; it was the kind of course they put younglings in who were practically Padawans already, just to keep them busy. Completely useless. He had a much better idea of what he could do with the time. “Hey, if anyone asks, I’m going to the ‘fresher.”

Zett raised an eyebrow, his skepticism plain. “Really.”

“Yes,” Caleb rolled his eyes. “We’re in the back, they won’t notice.”

Well, Padawan Pilor didn’t notice anyway. He was pretty sure Master Sinube glanced over at him while he scooted away from the group and crawled under a nearby table, but he didn’t say anything and Caleb got away without anyone stopping him.

Once he wiggled out from under the table, he hurried around a corner and into the rest of the Archives. The youngling class was held in a corner with a holoprojector—even though Master Sinube wasn’t using it—and more open space and pads on the ground. _Boring_. They were even faced away from the stacks. Master Billaba said it was to help them focus, and something about the way she’s smiled at him when she said it made Caleb suspect she knew how often he got in trouble for fidgeting.

Just because it made sense didn’t mean it wasn’t _annoying._

With any luck, nobody would come looking for him for another hour at least. Master Sinube never finished his lectures on time, and nobody liked to interrupt him to remind him that normal people needed to stop for lunch at some point.

Someone would ask Caleb what a youngling was doing wandering around the Archives eventually, but until then he could do anything he wanted.

Maybe he could read about something _interesting_ —like the Mandalorian Wars, or actual war reports from the front. Last time they’d talked, Master Billaba had mentioned something about the philosophy behind Soresu and that it might be related to some of his questions, maybe he should do more reading about that so he could talk to her about it next time…

He ducked behind a shelf as a pair of Temple Guards passed the end of the row. Normally the Guards were just part of the scenery, even though Caleb’s teachers all stressed how important the Guard was and how Jedi should respect them. But this time they piqued his interest; he had an idea of why they were here.

He didn’t like not knowing things. And it wasn’t like anyone else would answer his questions.

* * *

Caleb peeked around the end of a row of shelves.

Padawan Offee was sitting in a window seat, reading something off a datapad. He frowned. She looked more tense than he remembered, and didn’t look up even when Master Tiplee walked past. One of the things Barriss had taught Caleb’s cohort was the importance of respect toward everyone, but especially fellow Jedi. That wasn’t like her at all.

He was a little more worried about the Guards.

He wasn’t _scared_ of them, of course. But they were standing right _there_ , just a few feet on either side of Barriss, and there was a pretty good chance that the minute they saw him they’d send him back to his cohort. But then, there was a pretty good chance that  _anyone_ who saw him would send him back to his cohort, so he left the shelves and walked up to the window seat.

The Guards looked at him, but they didn’t say anything as he pulled himself up onto the padded bench next to Barriss and leaned over to see what she was working on.

“Hi.”

Barriss jumped when he spoke, then looked at him with wide eyes. “Um. Hello.”

Caleb squirmed a little. He hadn’t actually expected to get this far. “What’re you reading?”

Barriss looked back at the datapad in her hand, blinking like she’d just noticed she was holding it. “Oh. Nothing. A geological survey of Jakku. I just… picked it up.”

That wasn’t what Caleb really wanted to know. “Why don’t you ever—” he started.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Barriss interrupted him shortly, turning back to the datapad she hadn’t even been reading. “Did you ask your chaperone?”

“You’re a Padawan,” he said. “Can’t you be my chaperone?”

Barriss’ grip tightened on her datapad. “I’m not supposed to talk to you without permission.”

“But _I’m_ talking to _you_ ,” Caleb insisted. “That’s different.”

She still wouldn’t look at him, but he saw Barriss smile. “Well,” she told her datapad. “I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

Caleb nodded firmly and wiggled his toes—the window seat was just tall enough that they couldn’t quite touch the ground.

“I’m getting better at meditating,” he told her. “The advice you gave us last time really helped.”

“I’m glad I could be of assistance, youngling,” Barriss said, and her smile became a bit brighter. “Or is it Padawan now?”

Caleb sighed. “No, still a youngling. But Master Billaba said she would talk to the Council about it the next time she got back to the Temple, so it’ll be any day now!”

“I’m glad to hear that. I remember what it was like waiting for Master Luminara to formally choose me.”

Caleb nodded vigorously. “Some of my cohort already got picked—Actuib went to Master Dfuzg _yesterday_. I’m jealous; I can’t wait to get in on the action!”

He didn’t expect to see Barriss shut down the way she did. She looked at him like he’d just stabbed her.

“I meant...Sorry,” he whispered, even though he wasn’t sure what he’d said that was wrong.

“It’s alright,” Barriss said, looking away. “It’s not your fault.”

Caleb ran a hand through his hair and looked down at his feet. _Stupid_. He didn’t know what had happened but he knew it had something to do with the war. She’d never answer his questions now.

After a minute, he scooted closer to her. “I’m getting better at my lightsaber forms,” he offered. He hoped it wouldn’t make whatever he’d said worse. “It’s just like you said at the Gathering. Like it’s part of me.”

It took a moment for Barriss to glance over at him, but she smiled when she did. “It is part of you, Caleb. Even if you aren’t carrying it at the moment.” Her smile got a bit softer. “And you’ll never forget your Gathering.”

Caleb shook his head. He couldn’t imagine anyone even thinking they could forget something like that. And he remembered Padawan Offee as well, even if he’d been more focused on the little blue crystal in his hand than anything else. She’d been there to welcome everyone back with quiet recognition and helped them understand why they were failing to construct their lightsabers when they started to get frustrated. Caleb knew he wasn’t the only member of that group who’d secretly hoped to be her Padawan, once she became a Knight. That was before Master Billaba had taken an interest in him, of course.

Caleb scratched at the side of his head. There wasn’t much point in putting it off; either she would answer his question or she wouldn’t. “Barriss?” He waited until she gave him attention before continuing. “Why don’t you help train us anymore?”

She stared silently at her datapad for long enough that he didn’t think she was going to answer, but finally she sighed and switched the pad off.

“The Council believes it would be harmful,” she said, and Caleb scowled. He knew that voice. That was the voice adults used around younglings when they didn’t want to give a real answer. He wasn’t a kid anymore, he was fourteen!

“Why?”

Barriss sighed. “I suppose if I don’t tell you then no one will. I...” She swallowed. “I almost did a very bad thing. People would have been hurt. _Jedi_ would have been hurt. I realized I was wrong and I told my Master what I had done before it was too late, but I still had to be held responsible.”

Caleb considered it. “So you aren’t really dark, right?”

Barriss pressed her lips together. “If I had done it, I would have fallen.” She said it with absolute conviction. “But no, I’m not. And I’m not a Separatist either, though I’m sure people have told you that as well.”

Caleb nodded. “Why do they think that? If it isn’t true?”

“Because it’s more convenient than the truth,” she muttered, barely audible. She shook her head and continued before he could ask another question. “You shouldn’t worry about it.”

She wasn’t going to brush him off that easily. Caleb furrowed his brow. “But why—”

“ _Dume!_ There you are!”

Caleb winced as Padawan Pilor came around the corner, while Barriss froze. He pushed himself down from the window seat, running a hand through his hair again sheepishly as he waved to his minder.

“How many times have I told you not to—Oh.” Pilor came to an abrupt halt as she registered Caleb’s companion. “ _You._ ”

Barriss gave a terse seated bow. “Padawan Pilor.”

Pilor frowned at her for a moment before turning back to Caleb. She shook her head, but smiled at him.

“You should be back with your cohort,” she said firmly, ruffling his hair to take any sting out of the reprimand. “It won’t be for much longer, but you still have to follow the same rules as everyone else.” She glanced at Barriss. “That’s what keeps the Jedi who we are.”

“It instills a sense of duty and humility,” Barriss corrected her, staring straight ahead. “In theory.”

Pilor’s voice lost its warmth as she straightened to glare at her peer. “I’ll have to report this to the Council, you know.”

Caleb stared at her. “What?!”

Barriss winced. “Caleb, don’t—”

“But she didn’t _do_ anything!” Caleb insisted, tugging on Pilor’s sleeve. “I’m the one who came to talk to her, she didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t blame her for it!”

Pilor placed a hand on his shoulder, like she was trying to reassure him.

“It’s all right, Caleb,” she promised with a little smile. “Other than helping Master Sinube with his filing tomorrow, you’re not in any trouble. _Her_ restrictions don’t reflect on you.”

“That’s not what I _said_ ,” Caleb protested. “She tried to tell me to leave but I didn’t listen, don’t write her up for nothing!”

Barriss cleared her throat.

“Go back to your cohort, Caleb,” she said evenly, still facing the shelves rather than him. “Just listen to her and stay away from me.”

Caleb looked up at Pilor with a pleading expression, and after a moment she sighed in exasperation. “Fine then. If you insist that she warned you away, I’ll let Offee off with a warning.” She looked at Barriss with sheer disgust. “But don’t let me catch you near him or any of the others again.”

Barriss looked down at the floor. “Don’t worry,” she said, voice soft. “You won’t.”

Caleb wanted nothing more than to get back on the bench with her, but Pilor was gesturing for him to follow her. He sighed and followed her back to the class. Why was everyone so harsh to Barriss when she’d done exactly what they kept telling Caleb to do if he was conflicted—talk to a Master about it? Caleb vowed not to be like that once he was a Padawan. And then he could talk to Barriss without anyone to stop him. The thought brought a smile to his face

* * *

* * *

“Barriss.”

Luminara was prepared for flinching. Barriss had spent enough time lost in her thoughts over the past months—ever since Ahsoka had left, really—that she was growing unfortunately accustomed to her Padawan jumping every time she was addressed. There had been a time when Barriss responded to unexpected attention like a flower to the sun, but it was harder and harder to remember.

She was _not_ prepared for her greeting to go all but unacknowledged.

Barriss returned it, of course; very little short of the heat-death of the universe would break her apprentice out of her formalities. But there was a world of difference between Barriss’ usual crisp, attentive curtsy and…this.

“Master Unduli,” she murmured, barely sketching a bow. She glanced up for the briefest possible moment, just enough to count as looking without having to make eye contact.

Her intended request forgotten for a moment, Luminara had to fold her hands behind her back to resist the urge to embrace her Padawan in the middle of the Temple. “Is everything alright, Padawan?”

“I’m managing, Master,” Barriss said, still not meeting her gaze. “How can I help you?”

Luminara didn’t quite believe it, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to drag the truth out of Barriss here. Her apprentice could be remarkably stubborn. “I wanted to invite you to dinner tonight in my quarters, since I’ll be leaving for Agamar in the morning.”

Barriss didn’t even blink before bowing again. “There’s no need, Master. I’m not particularly hungry. I was going to meditate tonight, and get something light from the dining hall before bed. Thank you for the invitation, though.”

Luminara was taken aback. That wasn’t like Barriss _at all_. Usually her apprentice was so eager to be around her that when Luminara wanted to have any time to herself she had to give Barriss an assignment to keep her from quietly hovering nearby. She had never been turned down like this before. And to skip a proper meal when she knew perfectly well that Barriss had served a full healing shift just that morning...

There was a faint, distracted edge to Barriss’ voice that worried her even more. She barely seemed to realize she was speaking at all.

“Barriss.” Luminara’s voice came out sharper than she meant it to, worry for her apprentice lending her a snap she didn’t intend. And _there_ was the flinch. But at least she’d startled Barriss back into the real world. “Join me for dinner, please?”

Barriss winced and ducked her head again. “Of course, Master.”

Luminara might have been imagining it, but she thought the pair of guards standing behind Barriss glanced at one another. She wondered what they thought of Barriss—they spent more time in her company than anyone, and if Luminara’s own master had been any indication of the average Temple Guard they were not nearly as unopinionated as they appeared. But as usual, she couldn’t read anything from them.

“Seventeen hundred hours, Padawan,” she said quietly.

* * *

Luminara had the worrying suspicion that this was the most Barriss had eaten at a time in days. And even then, she wasn’t eating much, picking at her food every few moments more out of obligation than anything else. She’d responded to Luminara’s questions about her activities with the bare minimum of information required for politeness; otherwise, she hadn’t spoken. It was one of the most awkward interactions she had ever had with her Padawan, and that included her several attempts at handling Barriss’ sex education.

Finally, Luminara sighed.

“Barriss,” she said, setting down her fork. “Speak your mind.”

Her apprentice didn’t look up. “I don’t have anything to—”

“Barriss.”

Barriss’ breath caught. “I’m—sorry, Master.”

Luminara felt a distinct urge to hit her head against the table. “For what, Padawan?”

At the word _padawan_ , Barriss winced and turned her attention to her food for a moment. Luminara let her stall. She was a Jedi Master; she was nothing if not patient.

Barriss swallowed a small mouthful and spoke again, softly. “The Council’s never going to let me become a Knight.”

Luminara sighed. “Of course they will, once they see you—”

“No they _won’t!_ ” Barriss snapped, letting her fork fall onto her plate with a clatter. “And that means you’re stuck with me!”

Luminara’s eyebrows shot up, more out of surprise than anything else, and after a few seconds it seemed to register to Barriss that she had just interrupted her. She blushed deeply, but before she could apologize for it Luminara held up a hand. “Barriss, I _chose_ you as my Padawan. I am not _stuck_ with you.”

There was a stubborn set to Barriss’ chin, but she locked her gaze on her plate rather than argue with her master outright.

“The Code,” Barriss muttered after several long, angry heartbeats. “No Jedi can have more than one Padawan at a time. As long as you have me, you’ll never have a chance to train someone who—”

“ _Barriss_.” Luminara didn’t want to imagine where that sentence was leading. “I have no desire to train another apprentice.”

Barriss leaned forward and put her head in her hands. “Well, you should. I’m a _failure_ , Master. I failed the Order, I failed the Code, and I failed _you_. I don’t—” she bit down on her words in what might have been a sob, but if that’s what it was she got it under control before Luminara could tell for sure. “I can’t even serve at your side if I can’t leave the Temple. All I want is for you to have an apprentice that’s worthy of you, and I’m a _disgrace_.”

If there was a proper response to that, Luminara didn’t know it.

“Barriss...I…”

Her Padawan gave a choked, mirthless laugh.

“The Council should have just expelled me,” she told the floor. “Or executed me.”

Luminara’s head snapped up. “ _Barriss!_  How could you even say that?”

Barriss was past hearing. “It would have been better for everyone,” she said, bitterly. “They shouldn’t have punished you for my crimes by forcing you to keep training me when I don’t have any future in the Order.”

Luminara forced herself to pause, breathing carefully and biting down on an urge to insist that it wasn’t true. The more she argued the point, the more Barriss would dig in her heels.

“I was a Padawan at your age, Barriss,” she said, as gently as she could. “It is a very rare Jedi who never feels as if their training is going nowhere. You are one of the most gifted healers in the Order.” If not _the_ most gifted; there were better healers, more powerful, with more complete knowledge, but none who had possessed Barriss’ skills at such a young age. “I can assure you, there is a future for you.”

“Right,” Barriss scoffed. “They _might_ Knight me eventually, out of pity, and stick me in a forgotten corner of the Halls of Healing for the rest of my life where I’m not wanted.” Her fist clenched on the table, crumpling a napkin. “I’m an embarrassment, Master. To everyone around me.”

“Is that so.” Luminara regarded her evenly. Sitting forward and carefully enunciating every word, she said, “Knowing what I do now, in full knowledge that events would transpire exactly as they have, Barriss Offee—I would still take you as my Padawan.” Frustration flared in Barriss’ Force presence, but she didn’t respond except to blink rapidly at the floor. Luminara smiled sadly. “A life as a healer. Is it really so terrible a fate to you, Barriss?”

Slowly, swallowing hard and refusing to look up, Barriss shook her head.

“It’s what I wanted,” she whispered after a moment. “It’s what I would have chosen.”

Luminara didn’t fail to note the past tense, but it didn’t worry her as much as it might have. That, at least, was a conversation Barriss _had_ been willing to hold. She took pride in healing, it brought her genuine contentment, but Jedi were still mortal. Before Barriss had slowly ceased to take interest in her surroundings, she had confessed to occasional irritation at being _forced_ into the role, as no other useful positions were available to her within the Temple walls. That her presence as a healer was essentially treated as part of her punishment caused her no small amount of pain.

“Then, Padawan,” she said simply. “You have at least one future.”

The fight seemed to have drained out of her apprentice. “Not if you never train anyone else.” The words were barely more than a breath, and Luminara realized that Barriss’ hands were shaking.

“Barriss?”

Another long, painful pause.

“You should have trained _Knights_.” Barriss’ voice was rough, wide eyes too bright as she held back tears. “And even if they let me take the Trials as a courtesy someday, even if I pass them, you _know_ they’ll…” She swallowed with difficulty. “They will _never_ let me have a Padawan.”

Barriss finally looked up, and the agony in her eyes felt like a physical blow. Of course. What other conclusion was she meant to draw when they banned her from contact with younglings and openly admitted it was because they didn’t trust her not to turn them to the Dark? What other conclusion was the Order supposed to draw? And Barriss, of all Jedi.... _She would have been a perfect teacher. Better than I was._

“Whatever legacy you would have had dies with _me_.”

Even as misplaced as it was in this instance, the sheer level of _empathy_ Barriss possessed took Luminara’s breath away. That sort of lineage wasn’t supposed to truly matter to Jedi...but like many things the Jedi weren’t supposed to care about, in practice it was different. Luminara had never met her Master’s master—she had died long before Edrin Tazani had even thought of taking Luminara as an apprentice—but Luminara _did_ know her name. And the names of twelve Jedi before her. There were many teaching practices, techniques, and beliefs that were unique to certain lines of Jedi; the one that Luminara and Barriss were part of was no different.

And Barriss was right. In all likelihood, that line would end with her.

But Luminara still couldn’t see that as a failure, no matter how much Barriss wanted her to.

“Master,” Barriss said softly. “I’d like to be excused.”

Luminara sighed. “Of course. I’ll see you in the morning before I leave.”

As her Padawan slipped out of the room without another word, Luminara had a brief, wild thought of somehow smuggling Barriss out of the Temple with her. But everything about it was madness—and the battle that awaited at Agamar would hardly be an improvement for Barriss. Luminara sighed again and looked down at the remnants of her dinner.

Barriss would be fine without her for a few weeks. She would have to be.

* * *

* * *

Rig Nema came out of her healing trance with a long groan.

It was never easy, coming back to the world after that kind of meditation. Healing was exhausting, and your body would pull you out of it if you overextended yourself, but it was also a level of peace and communion with the pure Force that let you forget how much you would ache when you left it.

“Everything going well here, Master?”

“Perfectly well, Padawan,” Rig answered, glancing over her shoulder with a faint smile. Padawan Offee was passing by with a cold compress in her hands, sparing a sympathetic look for Rig’s patient before nodding and continuing on her rounds.

Rig was perfectly aware of the girl’s reputation with the rest of the Order, and didn’t much care. Barriss Offee was one of the most talented and dutiful healers who’d ever served under her—no one better to share a graveyard shift with. Even if Offee’s close-held fear was valid and the Council never lifted her restriction to the Temple...well, she had a place for life in the Halls of Healing. If the Council had any sense, they would make her Chief Healer someday. They needed ten more of her.

And it seemed to do her good, as well; she had no choice but to be alert and present here. She needed that. Padawan Offee had retreated into herself even more than usual over the past five weeks, ever since her master had been called away; there were days when she showed up in the afternoon and her voice was so raspy Rig suspected she hadn’t spoken all day.

Rig walked over to an empty bed, sat down, and stretched the kinks out of her joints. Her patient, a young Knight named Tutso Mara, would make a full recovery given another week of rest. He had been standing too close to a parked starfighter when it was strafed by enemy fire; the resulting explosion had left him with extensive burns. Offee had taken on most of the responsibility for his care, but she’d stretched herself too thin recently and Rig had all but forced her at saberpoint to let her take over for a few days. He and Offee had been in the same youngling cohort—the only two members of that cohort who hadn’t been killed in the war, if Rig remembered correctly. It was no surprise that Barriss wanted to make sure he was safe.

Mara didn’t seem to return the affection, from what Rig had seen—and what she’d coaxed out of both Barriss and Luminara. Privately, she thought the Council could take a lesson in forgiveness and compassion from the way Padawan Offee conducted herself here.

It wasn’t like she was the first padawan in the history of the Order to have a brush with the Dark Side. Almost every Jedi had been tempted; most of those who hadn’t yet would be someday. The test was in rejecting that temptation before it was too late. Barriss had recognized her mistake before she even made it, which was exactly what at least half their own generation had done at one point or another.

But their generation hadn’t been at war, and Barriss Offee’s was. She had committed sedition; there was no denying that. If her plan had been carried out it likely would have resulted in the death of Jedi. But even still, some of the punishments she had received seemed a little harsh to Rig. And there was certainly no excuse for the way that some members of the Order had ostracised her since. She had seen Barriss stay in a healing trance for hours to hold life inside Jedi who all but spat on her in the hallways.

The bed dipped as Barriss sat next to her. “Here, Master,” she said quietly, offering her a glass of water. Barriss did everything quietly these days—always had, from what Luminara said, but there was a sadness about her now that had never been there before.

Rig took the glass gratefully. A glance at the chrono confirmed it had been just over two hours in a deep healing trance, and she needed the drink.

“Thank you, Padawan,” she said after she had taken a gulp. “You are very thoughtful.”

Strangely, Barriss flinched at her words. “It’s no trouble, Master. It’s just...” she rubbed at her elbow. “You’ve always been so kind to me, even after—after everything I’ve done.”

Rig smiled at her. “We all make our mistakes, Padawan. And without forgiveness, how can we come back from them?”

That was a lesson that many in the Order could stand to learn, Rig thought as she finished off her drink. It left an odd, cloying aftertaste in her mouth. Something must be wrong with the plumbing. Strange. She made a mental note to send a maintenance request.

Rig felt a sudden wave of drowsiness and stifled a yawn. Back to the business at hand. “Everything is going well, I trust?”

Barriss nodded while continuing to look at the floor. “Everyone’s asleep,” she said. “They’re all safe for now.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Rig murmured, trying to remember what she had meant to do next. It would be easier if her head wasn’t so stuffy, and she wasn’t so incredibly tired…“That’s good, Padawan, that’s...” Realization struck her just as her vision began to blur.

 _No, she didn’t…_ “Offee, what...”

She tried to stand, only to nearly collapse. Barriss rushed over to catch her and gently lower her back onto the bed. There was a quiet click as Rig’s communicator was slipped from her wrist and set aside—her head swam when she tried to follow the movement.

“Please forgive me, Master,” the girl whispered in her ear. Rig tried to reach for the bed’s panic button, but her limbs had stopped obeying her commands. She felt the lightsaber disappear from her belt, but could do nothing to stop it. As a last-ditch effort, she tried to send a warning along her training bond with Master Vokara, but her mind was too scattered to concentrate, and the message fell apart before she could even put it together.

She summoned up enough willpower to turn her head towards Barriss, to give her a questioning, dumbfounded look. She tried to ask “why,” but the word came out slurred and incomprehensible.

“I really am sorry for this, Master,” Barriss said as Rig’s vision went black and she felt something tighten around her wrist. “But there was no other way...”

Whatever else Barriss Offee had to say for herself, Rig Nema never heard it.

* * *

It was around oh-five-hundred, Temple time, when Luminara’s shuttle landed.

Unavoidable this time, unfortunately. They usually made an effort to avoid that kind of spacelag; it was early afternoon where they’d been posted on Agamar, but there wasn’t always time to be gentle when switching between planets and timezones.

As she stepped off onto the Temple landing platform, one of the clones in the gunship called out to her. “Our best to Commander Offee, General!”

She faltered, looking over her shoulder to see who it had been. She could feel Gree’s disapproval; he tried to hide it, but Luminara knew his opinion of anything resembling betrayal of the Republic. To even consider it was unthinkable to him. He had never said a word against Barriss, but he would certainly never _forgive_ her…

Ah. That explained it.

She offered the clone who had spoken a smile and a nod. “Of course, Crash.” He had been one of Barriss’ squadron on Umbara, the dozen-and-change of Krell’s entire battalion who had managed to survive. _Thanks to her_ , they’d said when the Republic was finally able to send a gunship in to extract them.

Luminara wondered if Barriss had taken that in the same way that they had meant it.

Her Padawan’s handful of rescued clones had been folded into Gree’s company with the revelation of Krell’s fall; several of them hadn’t even been willing to use their names when they arrived, but they had slowly begun to take pride in themselves again. Crash had limped out of their extraction ship as the only thing keeping Barriss from collapsing. It was clear that he, at least, wanted to see her again.

Gree cleared his throat and saluted. “General,” he said simply, and she released him with a nod. The gunship took off again as she stepped inside the landing bay.

The Temple was never truly asleep, but it certainly felt that way as she walked through the halls. The silence was almost eerie, doubly so for the fact that Luminara was on such a wildly different time schedule. _Oh_ , she would regret that tomorrow—for now, she couldn’t have slept if she tried.

She hadn’t meant to wind up in the residential wing. She’d actually had the half-formed idea that it had been too long since she was able to sit outside and meditate without fear of an attack. Still, as long as she was here…

There was a chance that Barriss was already awake, but even if she wasn’t it wouldn’t hurt to check in on her. Luminara never slept easy when she’d left Barriss alone, anymore. Especially not since their last conversation.

For a moment she thought she had accidentally gotten off the turbolift on the wrong floor. There weren’t any guards in sight, and yet that was definitely Barriss’ door.

She was already up and about, then. Or she had taken a night shift in the Halls of Healing. Luminara almost walked away, but…

No. Something was wrong.

 _You’re letting fear get the best of you,_ she chided herself as she hesitated. Just because she worried when she hadn’t seen Barriss didn’t mean…

She reached out in the Force and opened the door.

The room was empty, of course. Everything was still in place, the small Mirialan meditation statue still sat on its table, Barriss’ sleeping mat was made neatly…

The sleeping mat. There was a datapad sitting on it. Maybe Barriss had just left it there after some late night reading…no. It was placed too deliberately for that.

Luminara’s blood ran cold. _No, she can’t have._

_The Council should have just executed me. It would have been better for everyone..._

Her hand shook as she reached for the datapad. It hadn’t been locked; the screen flared to life the moment she touched it, opening on an unsaved document. Of course. If she saved it, it would have shown up in her activity feed.

 

 _Master Luminara,_ it opened.

_If you’re reading this, I’m sorry. I told you the truth when I said there is no future for me as a Jedi. I know that you’ll be better off without me in your life._

 

She almost dropped the datapad.

“Barriss,” she breathed. “Barriss, you _wouldn’t._ ”

_Hopefully, I’m already gone by the time you find this. I know you are expected back in the morning, and I know that I could not leave you. It had to be like this. It had to be now. I hope someday you will be able to forgive me. I swear to you, by what little honor I have left, that I have no intention of harming anyone. I do not intend to turn on the Republic, or move against the Jedi. I will not make the mistake again of thinking that violence can be ended by further violence._

_But I will never be a Jedi. I know that now. I know you must, too. I do not belong here anymore. Whatever my path may be from here, I need to figure it out on my own. Away from the Jedi, from the Council’s skewed priorities. And away from you. Tell Ahsoka there was nothing she could have done. I will miss both of you deeply._

_I know the Council won’t be able to forget me, but for your own sake I hope that you do. Please, take another apprentice. You deserve a better legacy than I can provide you._

_Consider this my resignation from the Jedi Order._

_Goodbye, Master._

__

_P.S: If I have been captured by the Guard, you may disregard this message._

__

_P.P.S: I hope you will give my apologies to Master Nema. She should be awake soon. She’ll be fine, aside from a headache. I’ll put her on a biomonitor in case I get the dosage wrong._

Luminara let the datapad fall back to the bed, and rested her head in trembling hands as she let out a long sigh.

_Oh, Barriss._

It wasn’t what she had feared, but Luminara still felt like she had been kicked in the stomach. She couldn’t even summon a wish that Barriss had stayed. There was more life and purpose in half a page of farewell than she had heard in her padawan’s voice in months. For a moment, she seriously considered erasing the file and waiting for Barriss’ escape to be discovered by someone else. The editing timestamp was almost eight hours past already, surely one more wouldn’t make any real difference in the inevitable search…

She took a deep breath, and opened her communicator to the Guards’ channel.

“This is Master Luminara Unduli,” she said unsteadily. “Whoever is closest to the Halls of Healing, Master Nema may need assistance.”

 _“Your Padawan’s guard should be right outside, she’s working a night shift,”_ the voice of Cin Drallig replied. _“What’s the problem?”_

Luminara closed her eyes. “Barriss is.”

* * *

* * *

Luminara raised a hand to shield her eyes as the shuttle’s landing thrusters kicked up dust from the platform. They had gotten here fast—whatever the Council had been willing to say over holocomm had certainly conveyed the urgency of the situation, if nothing else.

Ahsoka leapt out of the shuttle before the engines had fully shut down, turning to wave her thanks at the pilot and brushing herself down as she crossed the landing platform.

“Hi, Master Luminara,” she said. “Waiting for someone?”

Luminara’s smile wasn’t as forced as she expected it to be. Reasons for her being here aside, she was happy to see Ahsoka again. “As a matter of fact, I was waiting for you. The Council wants to see us both right away.”

That seemed to bring Ahsoka up short. “Really?” Luminara could almost see the gears turning in her head. Ahsoka’s cheerfulness began to rapidly dissipate. “This is about Barriss, isn’t it? What happened? Is she okay?”

Luminara sighed. “I wish I knew. Come.” She placed a hand on Ahsoka’s back until the young Padawan reluctantly fell into step beside her, then let it fall. “I’m afraid time is of the essence.”

As they crossed the hangar bay, Luminara noticed maintenance workers, clones, and even a handful of Jedi look at them and quickly glance away again. It seemed they had reached the same conclusion that Ahsoka had. Despite the Council’s efforts to keep it as quiet as possible, the news had been all over the Temple within an hour. Even with her reclusive tendencies, it wasn’t as though they could hide the fact that Barriss was no longer here.

“You know,” Ahsoka spoke up. “I was starting to think I wouldn’t see the Temple again until the war was over.”

“It’s a good thing you were allowed back, then,” Luminara said. She wished it were under different circumstances.

“Yeah,” Ahsoka muttered. “I just thought I would be more excited about it. It doesn’t...feel right.”

Luminara knew what she meant. There was an aura of tension throughout the Temple now that had been gathering since Barriss disappeared. Everyone was expecting, waiting for something to happen, and their anxiety was bleeding into the Force. Added to the far more personal fear and worry Ahsoka was trying to smother, the turbolift to the Council chambers felt much longer than it should have.

By the time the doors opened, Ahsoka’s unshielded agitation had begun to take its toll on Luminara’s own control; the Padawan was restless, her hands clenching and unclenching as she stepped out of the lift. Luminara had to take a moment to breathe and collect herself before following.

* * *

“What do you mean, gone?”

Luminara sighed.

Unfortunately, gone was the best word any of them could find for Barriss. She was alive—Luminara _knew_ she was alive—but she was intelligent, and cautious, and knew how to mask herself in the Force and stay out of sight. If she was even still on Coruscant, none of them knew where.

If Barriss was still on Coruscant, then she was deep in the underworld, alone, on foot, and unarmed.

Master Windu’s expression was unreadable. “She seems to have fled the Temple. Master Rig Nema was found heavily sedated early yesterday morning in the Halls of Healing. She and Padawan Offee were alone together on a night shift; we don’t know how long she was planning this. Our best guess is that Offee escaped either through a window, or via the ventilation ducts.” He indicated them on the holo hovering in front of them.

Ahsoka was shaking her head slowly, staring at the recording the Guard had taken of the scene. She frowned and zoomed in on the prone image of Master Nema. “What’s that on her arm?”

“A biomonitor,” said the hologram of Obi-Wan. His voice was distorted; they had lost their connection altogether earlier in the day, but communications appeared to have stabilized. “The device was synchronized with Barriss’ communicator and set to summon the Guard if Master Nema’s vital signs changed. The note she left Luminara suggests she was concerned about a potential overdose and took steps to ensure Master Nema’s safety before making her escape.”

“Of course she did,” Ahsoka said under her breath. Luminara didn’t think it was loud enough for anyone besides her to hear. After another moment studying the hologram, Ahsoka cocked her head to the side quizzically and pointed to the bedside table. “She left the lightsaber.”

“Would you have taken it, Padawan?” Luminara asked quietly.

Ahsoka looked guilty. “I’d like to say no, but...honestly? I don’t know what I’d do. I can’t even imagine being in that situation. I’m just trying to figure out what was going through her head. I mean, there was nothing stopping her from taking it. She disarmed Master Nema, she was holding it and put it back down...”

After a pause, the hologram of Plo Koon spoke up. “It is possible that she does not consider herself worthy of carrying a lightsaber.”

Ahsoka froze. “What do you mean?”

There were a lot of uncomfortable glances between the Masters. Yoda, Windu, Fisto, and Billaba were the only ones physically present; the rest were transmitting from worlds across the Outer Rim, and Shaak Ti, Oppo Rancisis, and Coleman Kcaj were unavailable entirely. It seemed none of them wanted to say the words.

Finally, Master Yoda spoke. “Resigned from the Order in her note to Master Unduli, Padawan Offee has.”

“ _What?_ ” Even though she had expected it, Luminara still winced at Ahsoka’s exclamation. “But—she’s a Jedi, she’s one of us, it was _important_ to her, she wouldn’t just…” But as she thought about it, Ahsoka’s shock visibly turned to resignation. “Well, it’s not like we gave her much reason to stay.”

Master Windu shook his head. “Right now, what happened in the past is not our priority. Master Drallig will determine how she escaped the Guard; your mission is to track down Barriss Offee and return her to the Temple.” He nodded to Luminara. “Master Unduli requested your presence because of your relationship with her… _former_ Padawan. She believes you may be able to convince Barriss to return quietly, and avoid any unnecessary bloodshed.”

Ahsoka shifted, glancing at Luminara unhappily. “Really? I mean...thanks for the vote of confidence, Master, but if she left the Order I don’t think she’s coming back.”

 _No,_ Luminara thought. _She isn’t. But they can’t admit that._

“Her wishes on the matter are irrelevant,” Master Mundi’s hologram said. “Padawan Offee committed sedition, and for that crime she was confined to the Temple. She cannot be allowed free reign in the wider galaxy.”

“If she wanted to resign from the Order, she could have done so before this Council, and we could have discussed her status,” Master Tiin added. Eeth Koth was uncharacteristically quiet, glancing between the holo and a datapad with a copy of Barriss’ letter. He looked up at Master Tiin, and Luminara realized she couldn’t tell if his expression was one of agreement or discomfort. “But by assaulting Master Nema and fleeing the Temple, she has made herself a fugitive from justice.”

Ahsoka scoffed under her breath, but didn’t challenge his word choice.

“I would like once more,” Luminara said tiredly, “To remind the Council that Barriss’ lack of violent intent was made very clear in her note.”

Mace Windu raised an eyebrow. “Do you believe she was telling the full truth in that note, Master Unduli?”

Luminara inhaled sharply, and didn’t trust herself to respond to the implication. Ahsoka seemed to have no such lack of trust, but her protest died on her lips as Depa Billaba raised a calming hand.

“Padawan Offee’s truthfulness can only be spoken for by her actions,” Depa said, leveling a gaze at her former Master. “As this Council was reminded during her hearing, intent is _not_ action—whether that intent is violent or peaceful. We can no more stake innocent lives on Barriss’ intentions than we could hold her fully responsible for an attack that never took place.”

“But she _hates_ hurting people, that’s the whole reason—” Ahsoka started.

Apparently sensing a disaster in the making even from halfway across the galaxy, Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

“It’s not just a question of whether she’s a threat to the Republic,” he said as gently as he could. “Barriss is emotionally unstable, and running away like this will only make that worse. She could be a danger to _herself_ in her condition.”

Ahsoka’s spike of anger in the Force was intense enough that Luminara nearly took a step back from her. “Oh, you care about that _now?_ ”

“Calm yourself, Padawan,” Kit warned her. To the shock of no one, he was ignored.

“She’s been confined to the Temple for six months, been shunned by the entire Order, and you didn’t think until now about what that would _do to her?_ ”

Plo Koon’s hologram tried to catch Luminara’s eye; the implicit plea to calm Ahsoka was clear. She glanced back and gave him the smallest shrug she could manage.

Thankfully, Ahsoka had missed the exchange. She rounded on the rest of the Council, radiating indignation. “Barriss hasn’t been a danger to anyone _but_ herself since she was locked in the Temple to rot!”

That was enough for Master Yoda to finally speak up in an attempt to soothe her. “A prisoner here, Padawan Offee was not. Her own safety—"

“Well if she wasn’t a prisoner,” Ahsoka interrupted, “Why does everyone keep saying she _escaped?_ ”

No one on the Council was willing to make eye contact with each other—except for Yoda and Master Windu, who exchanged a worried look.

Ahsoka glared at them. “If you ask me,” she said harshly, as if someone actually had, “The Order’s a bigger threat to Barriss than she is to us! I mean…” She actually threw her hands in the air. “Did any of you even _notice?_ No one would even speak to her, they told younglings she was Dark so they’d be too scared to go near her, she was alone. People— _Jedi!_ —challenged her to sparring matches just to have an excuse to hurt her! We’re supposed to be _better_ than that!”

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan said firmly. “That’s enough.”

“She thought the Jedi were forgetting what we’re supposed to be and the way we treated her for it _proved her right!_ ”

“Ahsoka...” Plo Koon started.

“I don’t know why she even bothered to resign, she hasn’t been treated like a real Jedi for—”

“ _Padawan Tano,_ ” Mace Windu interrupted forcefully enough that she actually stopped. “Perhaps your emotions on this matter have clouded your judgement.”

Luminara spoke before Ahsoka said something that she would regret. ”It would be foolish in the extreme for you to remove Ahsoka from this mission, Master.”

Obi-Wan sighed and rubbed his chin. “I agree. Barriss’ attachment to Ahsoka is precisely why we gave her this assignment in the first place. There are very few members of the Order that Padawan Offee will still trust to have her best interests at heart. We can’t risk frightening her into doing something rash.”

Ahsoka made a movement like she was going to protest, so Luminara pre-empted her again. “Every minute we discuss this instead of searching lessens our chances of finding her safely.”

“Indeed.” Plo Koon was looking at Ahsoka, but nodded and turned to the rest of the Council. “I do not believe there is any further information Ahsoka requires. I suggest Master Unduli begin her search immediately.”

One by one, each Council member gave their assent.

“Go swiftly then,” Yoda said. “And bring back this lost child, before it is too late.”

* * *

Ahsoka trembled with fury the entire long turbolift ride down to the speeder bay. This time she actually made an effort to shield it; somehow, that made the sheer force of betrayal and indignation pressing against Luminara’s temples even worse. _How dare they,_ it screamed in the Force. _How_ could _they?_ It might have been worrying, except that the anger was only a thin veneer over the surface of a much deeper, pounding concern. And that—well. That much was shared enough that to caution her against it would be an unforgivable hypocrisy.

Luminara swallowed. “Ahsoka,” she began.

“I know, I know,” the Padawan interrupted. “I wasn’t respectful to the Council. I’m sorry.”

It was one of the least sincere apologies that Luminara had ever heard. “No,” she agreed. “You weren’t. But that is not what I was going to say.” Privately, she thought that the Council had needed to hear something like Ahsoka’s rant for a long time.

“Master?”

Luminara steadied herself. “Back in the Council chamber, you mentioned...” she swallowed again, her mouth unexpectedly dry. “Sparring matches?”

Ahsoka looked away and balled her hands into fists at her side. “Yes.”

There was a long pause before Luminara trusted herself to speak again. “Were you exaggerating?”

“She had broken bones. Bruises. More than she should have had.” Ahsoka looked up at her with a weak attempt at a smile. “It’s okay, Master. I took care of it.”

She didn’t elaborate further, and Luminara didn’t ask her to. How have we come to this? she thought, staring at the turbolift wall.

“I never realized,” she said after a moment of painfully awkward silence. Her voice came out uneven.

“She tried to hide it from me too,” Ahsoka said quietly. “She...” Ahsoka looked down at the floor. “She told me she deserved it.”

Luminara felt like she was going to be sick. They had to find her. But a thought nagged at the back of her mind—it had been there since she first read Barriss’ goodbye note, but it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

_Is bringing Barriss back to the Temple really the best thing for her well-being?_

Luminara was beginning to suspect she knew the answer. But she couldn’t be sure, not until she actually spoke to her wayward apprentice.

The turbolift slid to a halt and dinged. When the doors opened, Luminara put a hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder to stop her from storming out.

“Ahsoka, go prepare a speeder for us. I need to stop by my quarters for a moment before we leave.”

If Ahsoka was confused by the order, she didn’t show it. She simply said “Yes, Master,” and rushed out.

Luminara was grateful she hadn’t asked why. That wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have in the Temple. All that mattered was that she knew Ahsoka would do the right thing when the time came.

Whatever the right thing was.

* * *

* * *

Ahsoka _hated_ the underworld.

So far they had visited a police station, three diners, thirteen street-food vendors, and six bars. Ahsoka had been propositioned eight times to Luminara’s five, turned down eleven different people trying to sell them drugs, stepped in at least three puddles of substances she had never seen before and was afraid to think too hard about, and they had once almost needed to pull their lightsabers when they wandered into a gang fight.

And they were no closer to finding Barriss.

“I’m gonna kill her,” she growled as she squelched over to the speeder. At least this time the puddle was just water from the air processors stretching for miles above them. She hoped.

“Ahsoka,” Luminara chided.

“I’m _serious_.” It was easy for _her_ to be calm. Somehow Master Unduli looked no worse than she had when they set out. “She might not even be on the planet anymore. Couldn’t we check spaceports or something?” Spaceports were _clean_. Well, okay. Spaceports were cleaner than the Coruscant underworld. Usually.

“Come now, Ahsoka,” Luminara said. “You should know by now that freighter captains are only in spaceports when they’ve just arrived or are just about to leave.”

“And that’s not when they would be willing to take on a passenger,”  Ahsoka sighed. “She could try to stow away on a ship taking off, though.”

“She could,” Luminara agreed. “But she won’t until it’s her last resort.”

Ahsoka slumped into her seat. “Guess we’d better find her fast, then,” she muttered.

She didn’t speak again for several minutes as Luminara maneuvered their speeder out of the narrow confines of the alley they’d tucked it in, nudging it toward the next sector in their search pattern. Speeders, in this part of the underworld, were overrated. Leg work was faster.

“Master?” Ahsoka finally asked, her voice small and tentative, when they’d broken relatively free into a transport lane. “If we find her…”

“When,” Luminara corrected her. She sounded a lot more confident than Ahsoka felt, at least.

“When we find her,” Ahsoka repeated dutifully. “Will they…what will happen to her?”

Luminara didn’t reply for over a minute. “I’m not sure,” she finally said.

Ahsoka wasn’t taking that. “But you can predict.”

Luminara sighed. “I can. If we are able to return Barriss to the Temple, she will in all likelihood be imprisoned.”

The same irritation she’d felt with the Council flared again. “Like she wasn’t _already?_ ”

At least Luminara looked just as unhappy with the situation as Ahsoka was. “She was still provided a certain amount of liberty. Freedom of movement within her restrictions. Access to the Archives and the holonet. A curfew was suggested and rejected.” She shot a look sideways at Ahsoka and added drily, “As I believe you took advantage of.”

Ahsoka might have smiled at that once; now she just shrugged. “But that’ll change if she comes back.”

It took a long time for Luminara to answer again. She tried to play it off by adjusting their landing mirrors and pretending to be looking for a place to park, but Ahsoka knew her better by now.

As they settled in another abandoned alleyway and scared... _something_ into the shadows, Luminara finally said, “Having resigned the Order, it is entirely possible Barriss will be imprisoned in a Republic facility.”

Ahsoka felt a wave of nausea. Memories of the Citadel on Lola Sayu made an unasked-for resurgence in her mind. The thought of Barriss locked away in a place like that, a bleak, oppressive fortress on a hellish world…

Luminara cut the engine and pulled herself out of the speeder.

“Come along, Ahsoka,” she said quietly.

Before, Ahsoka had been upset about the seeming futility of their search. Now, it gave her hope that they would never find her friend.

 _Run, Barriss,_ she thought as she followed Luminara into bar number seven. _Run far away from here and don’t look back._

Somehow, _Ch’ko’s_ was even louder than the _Spiced Anooba_ had been. Cursing the above-galactic-average hearing her montrals gave her, Ahsoka mingled with the crowd while Luminara talked to the bartender. Even if it was painful, that hearing gave her an advantage in here. Like she had nine times before that day—and more times than she could count on trips like this with Anakin or Master Plo—Ahsoka closed her eyes, got her breathing under control, and concentrated on the conversations around her.

“...not sure if I should call, though? I mean I want her to know I’m interested, but I don’t want to look desperate, but I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard not to look desperate…”

Well, that was useless.

“...haven’t got anything against tailheads, right? There are just some things they’re not as good at, and all these new work laws are getting out of hand, taking jobs from hard-working...”

Ugh, no.

“What? No, babe, of course I didn’t forget—yeah, some idiot’s next to me in traffic with his music all the way up, it should be clear soon, seriously, I’m in the speeder on my way there…”

Ahsoka wanted to snort at that, but no, that wasn’t what she was looking for.

“...insult the quality of _my_ goods? Count herself lucky if her next delivery’s cut with water and not bantha piss…”

Gross. Moving on.

“— _schutta_ didn’t even have any credits. I don’t know how she expects to pay for a ride offworld, but—”

Ahsoka opened her eyes.

Luminara must have picked up on her sudden interest, because she was at Ahsoka’s side faster than she should have been able to work her way through the crowded room.

“Anything?” she asked, raising her voice to be heard over the deafening music.

Ahsoka nodded toward the speaker, a rough-looking Twi’lek woman talking to the slim, pretty male companion draped over her arm. Luminara nodded, squeezing Ahsoka’s elbow with what felt like gratitude—her presence in the Force was too anxious to make out much of anything under it.

The Twi’lek lady looked over as they approached her, absently playing with her companion’s lek. Her gaze flickered between them before settling on Luminara.

“What?” she said bluntly.

“You just said that someone tried to get a ride from you?”

One of her red lekku twitched in what Ahsoka guessed was annoyance. “Yeah. Told her no, and it’s the same answer for you unless you’re heading to Alderaan and you can actually pay me.”

“We’re not here for that,” Ahsoka said.

"If you haven,'t noticed, Ledra and I are kind of in the middle of something," the male Twi'lek said, glaring at the both of them.

Ahsoka opened her mouth, but before she could say something Luminara waved her silent and handed the woman a copy of Barriss’ picture. “Was this her?”

The Twi’lek glanced over the holo and snorted. “Yeah, that was her. I knew she was on the run from something. So what’re you supposed to be?” She looked Luminara over. “Her mom?”

“Yes,” Luminara said, and Ahsoka was proud of herself for not letting her surprise show. This time Luminara was going for the _Concerned Parent_ cover, then. “Do you know where she went?”

“Not sure I’d tell you if I did,” was the curt reply. “You’re nothing to me and I figure her problems are her business.”

“Yeah, right,” Ahsoka snapped. “She wants us to pay her.”

“Wouldn’t hurt your chances,” the Twi’lek—Ledra—shot back. “Kid was practically begging me to take her with. Didn’t care where, just offworld. No one gets that scared without a reason, and I don’t hand people over without a better one.”

Ahsoka was seconds away from putting a lightsaber to this lady’s throat, but Luminara moved first. Just a tiny motion, placing her hand on the table like she was reaching out to the—what, smuggler, probably. Even with her hearing, Ahsoka had to lean in slightly to make out the words.

“Please,” Luminara said simply. “I know what she’s running from. I’ve got to find her soon, before she does something she’ll regret. She may be able to survive alone for a few days, but...” Her voice choked in a way that Ahsoka found very convincing. “I don’t want to find her in a gutter somewhere.”

Both Twi’leks looked incredibly uncomfortable, though the smuggler’s boytoy looked mostly annoyed at being interrupted. Ledra rolled her eyes and tossed back the rest of her drink, but Ahsoka had been under the full force of Luminara’s quiet, commanding gaze and no civilian ever stood a chance.

“For the love of— _fine_ , whatever, you’re probably a bounty hunter or something, but I don’t care. I didn’t pay much attention to the little brat, all right? She went east. There’s a catwalk entrance down that way, if that makes you feel any better. Safer than the street by a hair. It was about an hour ago, so the kid’s long gone by now, leave me alone.”

“Thank you,” said Luminara.

“Seriously. Leave.”

They didn’t need to be told a third time. As she squeezed between the other patrons on her way out, Ahsoka could hear the smuggler purring to her companion. “Right, now where were we?”

Ahsoka groaned and rubbed her montrals as the bar’s door swung shut behind them, barely muffling the noise.

“What now, Master?”

Luminara stared down the empty street, a million miles away.

“Now you go east,” she said finally, “and find an entrance to the catwalks.”

Ahsoka glanced up; a rickety lattice of fire escapes, burglar bars and jury-rigged platforms stretched above their heads in the dark. Her hands felt gritty with rust just _looking_ at them. “Um. What about you?”

“I need to move the speeder,” said Luminara. “I won’t be far behind, Padawan.”

Ahsoka started east, but she didn’t get far before Luminara called out to her again. “Ahsoka!”

She turned around with a wordless question.

“Remember to keep a clear head.”

Ahsoka nodded and turned back around. Barriss was only an hour ahead of them now, so their chances of finding her had just gone up drastically. Ahsoka wasn’t sure how to feel about that. On the one hand she wanted Barriss to get away, on the other…

_...find her in a gutter somewhere…_

_Don’t be stupid. She’ll be fine._

Because running around begging strangers for free rides offworld was a _perfectly_ safe practice.

“Come on, Barriss,” she muttered. A rusted ladder dangled about ten feet off the ground; that had to be the catwalk entrance. She jumped for the bottom rung and pulled herself up, ignoring the death-groans as she climbed into the catwalk system. This thing was about to fall apart. “You can’t do this forever…”

The catwalk ended abruptly in the middle of a metal wall; she looked up and found an even more questionable one a few yards above her, and called on the Force to make the jump to a gutter pipe, then across to a chain hanging from a fire escape. From there she was able to climb onto the next platform.

_If I was Barriss Offee…_

Something clattered on the street below, and Ahsoka drew back into the shadow of a building. It hadn’t been loud—she’d only noticed the sound because everything else up here was so still. It was, maybe, the kind of sound caused by someone who was exhausted and lost and trying very hard not to make any noise…

There was movement in a connecting alleyway, and Ahsoka let out the breath she’d been holding in an exasperated sigh.

Or it was the sound of a hungry tooka rooting through a garbage pail. Did she really expect it to be that easy?

Ahsoka was about to keep climbing when she heard footsteps from another catwalk above her. She turned towards the source of the the noise and squinted. From what she could see, it was some Coruscant street runner—baggy pants and a hooded, white-grey jacket. They swung one leg over the edge of a fire escape, then the other; grabbed the bottom of the platform and lowered themselves until they were hanging from it, then dropped lightly to a rooftop and slid down a drainage pipe until they were on the same level as Ahsoka.

They seemed to be trying to avoid something, or someone—they pulled the hood closer around their face and backed slowly along the walkway toward Ahsoka. She was just about to clear her throat and ask the kid if they needed help when they finally seemed satisfied that they hadn’t been followed, and turned around.

And she found herself face to face with Barriss.

She froze and stared wide-eyed at Ahsoka, who was suddenly realizing that she had no idea what she had planned to say to her.

After a moment, Ahsoka raised her hands in what she hoped was a non-threatening way and smiled. “Don’t panic, I’m not—”

In retrospect, she shouldn’t have been surprised that Barriss kicked her in the face.

Clutching her nose and spitting something in Huttese she’d once heard from Anakin, she stumbled backward and barely managed to clear her vision in time to see Barriss vault over the side of the catwalk.

“Son of a— _Barriss!_ ”

* * *

Barriss hit the rooftop hard and rolled with the impact rather than try to stick her landing.

_Stupid, stupid, should have known better than to double back…_

Her senses were clouded with exhaustion and fear, she’d felt something _changing_ , some impending event…and instinct had guided her back to a section of the city she had already seen, perhaps it was survival or desire for something even a little familiar or the fact that Ahsoka—

 _I’m sorry,_ she thought as she came to her feet and bolted blindly for the edge. Ahsoka called after her and she could sense her friend dropping. This was exactly the kind of underhanded manipulation she should have expected—sending one of the only people in the Order it would hurt her to run from. But she couldn’t afford to hesitate.

_You should have just forgotten me._

Ahsoka’s presence didn’t change anything. She couldn’t go back.

She grabbed the lip of the rooftop, swung over the side and dropped, straight down, as she heard Ahsoka’s heavy landing. She wished she had the advantage of knowing the terrain; she was running just as blind as Ahsoka. The platform she had been aiming for shook and twisted under her feet—a set of burglar bars, strung tight across a dizzying drop with nothing stronger than several layers of packing twine.

_All you have to do is lose her._

From here it was only a short leap to grab a grimy pipe, swing around the corner. She managed to grab the last step in a half-collapsed fire escape and haul herself over the edge. And then— _stairs._

There was a dangerous moment as Ahsoka followed her drop, a split second while Barriss was pulling herself to her feet when she could have been stopped, where Ahsoka could have grabbed her ankle but didn’t; hesitation, perhaps, to risk pulling her out over that kind of fall. She couldn’t afford to be grateful as she raced her friend along the twisting fire escape. Just one opening, a single option, just give her that one chance, _please_ —

There.

She braced a foot on the railing and jumped into the dark. Something broke in the rigging as she pushed off, but she managed to crash into another long piece of catwalk. Barriss’ ankle twisted under her and she fell badly on one shoulder, but she forced herself to ignore it and took off running. At one time, these had been maintenance rigs and scaffolding, but they had long since been abandoned.

The catwalk swayed with a worrying groan as Ahsoka landed behind her.

“Master,” she was saying—shouting, actually, while Barriss veered off sharply to swing under what remained of the guardrail, step off a series of window ledges and climb the gutted remains of yet another fire escape. “I found her, heading southeast on level one-one-three-eight, I could use some backup here!”

Whatever the response was, Barriss didn’t wait around to hear it. She understood what they were thinking with Ahsoka, but why did they have to send him? Just the thought of being face to face with a no doubt enraged Anakin Skywalker made her shudder. She knew what he thought of her.

There were lights ahead and above. One more wild leap, one that couldn’t have been made without the Force and even so left her hanging in space for a terrifying moment before she found a foothold in the tangled metal that had once been the rig’s supports and climbed onto the platform. “Barriss!” Ahsoka called behind her, followed by a rattle of chain as she apparently found some different route. “I just want to talk to—”

She cut herself off with a curse and the sound of crashing metal; just for a split second, Barriss looked back with her heart in her throat. Ahsoka was kicking a chain into the void, holding her shoulder but otherwise unhurt, and Barriss took the time to wish her another silent apology before taking her last jump, down into a narrow alleyway nearly ten meters below. She landed heavily but didn’t give herself time to rest before running again. The chain-link fence across the back of the alley rattled but held her weight. It was lined with razor wire that looked like it had been electrified at some point, but someone had—years ago, by the looks of it—cut the fence away from its poles.

She gripped the support pole and slid through onto solid ground again, bolting as she sensed Ahsoka’s determined leap at her heels. “Barriss, stop!”

Barriss’ heart pounded in her chest while she ran blindly through the maze of the alleys. She dodged trash barrels, piles of debris, Coruscant natives, scanning above for another catwalk entry that never appeared. Dread began to settle over her; she realized that she could run into a dead end at any moment, and if Ahsoka got her at lightsaber point it would all be over.

_There!_

Ahead an assortment of barrels were stacked on a platform a few levels up. Running under it, Barriss used the Force to pull hard at the already precarious support.

She winced and thought another silent apology as she heard Ahsoka’s yells amidst the crashing of metal. It would slow her down for a few seconds, give Barriss a moment to find another route—

There was a worn maintenance hatch a few feet away; she tossed the heavy cover aside with a frantic flick in the Force and dropped into the tunnel as the sound of falling barrels faded behind her.

She hit the ground running, flashes of color swimming behind her eyes in the sudden blackness. Some of these tunnels had been designed as sewers, others as ventilation shafts in the event of a collapse; eventually they all served to funnel away the endless damp. It could take hours or days or weeks for rainwater to reach Coruscant’s depths but when it got there it stayed—no sunlight to evaporate it. Storms would flood entire levels to the gills. Coupled with the condensation from industrial steam and the constant dripping of air processors from the upper levels, abandoned tunnels like this did little now but postpone the inevitable.

A warning in the Force as her lungs burned, and she was able to leap across the sudden chasm where a ladder led to the level below—there should have been guidelights through these tunnels but most of them had burned out years ago, and there was nothing but the quiet hiss of a waterfall to warn of the gap. Ahsoka splashed toward her; too close, too fast, and her own footsteps in the water were far too loud.

“There’s a drop!” she called instinctively, then winced and dodged right, left, took the middle fork, hit her head on a ladder—if the alleys were a maze this was a Geonosian labyrinth all over again.

“Barriss!”

She froze and pressed against the wall; Ahsoka’s voice was nearby, but not directly behind her. A connecting tunnel.

“Barriss, we’re worried about you, just—stand down, I need to talk to you!” A pause, then the familiar hiss as Ahsoka lit her saber—the shoto, Barriss thought with a small smile as faint golden light filtered in along the tunnel. “Look, I’m not gonna hurt you, okay, I just need to see. Barriss?”

 _Thank you,_ she thought. _Now I know where you are._

The faint light from Ahsoka’s lightsaber also showed her which way the water was flowing. Survival 101. She wasn’t certain if those lessons were meant to apply on Coruscant, but it might keep her from getting lost down here forever.

Ahsoka didn’t call out to her again, and Barriss was able to keep out of sight by backing away from the light as quietly as possible. She was certain Ahsoka would be able to hear the pounding of her heart magnified through the pipes, or her ragged breathing at least; but she just kept coming, pausing every so often as if listening or trying to figure out which way Barriss might have gone.

At one point, Ahsoka sighed and the light wavered.

“Master,” she said, words echoing and distorted from where Barriss was braced two corners away. “I think I lost her in the sewers.”

The response was too quiet and muffled for her to make out.

“But we can’t just give up!”

Barriss couldn’t hear Skywalker’s reply this time either, but her heart rate picked up in anticipation.

“...Yes, Master.”

The golden light disappeared and Barriss bit down on a sigh of relief. She had to be more cautious, now; had to listen for Ahsoka’s footsteps, and she knew perfectly well that Ahsoka’s hearing was exponentially more precise than hers. She could only hope that the distortion of the tunnels would negate that advantage.

But with the loss of the light from Ahsoka’s saber, Barriss also realized she could still see—a colder, more industrial light shimmered over the top of the rushing water.

Her way out, if she could get there.

She was slow, at first; agonizingly slow, stopping after every other step to try to figure out where Ahsoka was. At least her friend wasn’t making it difficult anymore. Ahsoka’s steps were wary, almost reluctant, but heavy and clear. Barriss was able to keep track of her as she backed slowly along the pipe, moving with the flow of the water and always closer to the light and the growing noise until finally she came around a corner and was almost blinded by the sight of the massive industrial core-to-surface pipeline at the end of the tunnel.

Freedom. Of a sort. All she had to do was get to the end. She abandoned caution and sprinted; it was so close, she could jump on a passing transport and the Jedi would never find her again...

A dark blur suddenly appeared at the exit, rushing up from below. Barriss’ first thought was to speed up, try to shove Skywalker to the side and push past him—

“ _Barriss!_ ”

She stopped before she knew what she was doing, skidding to a halt so abruptly her feet slid out from under her. She landed on her rear with a painful splash, blinked dirty water out of her eyes, and before she could even think about running away Master Luminara was pulling her to her feet and gently gripping her upper arms.

“Barriss,” she said. “What are you doing?”

* * *

Her Padawan made eye contact with her for a brief, frenzied instant, but rather than answer she choked back a sob, wrenched out of Luminara’s grip and turned to flee back into the tunnels.

She got three steps before she realized Ahsoka was standing in her way, panting heavily with her hands on her hips.

Barriss whirled to stare at Luminara again, her chest heaving with ragged breaths, then spun back around to Ahsoka. Realizing she was cornered, Barriss let out a strangled moan and fell back against the curved tunnel wall, wrapped her arms around her torso, then slid down and tucked her head into her knees.

Luminara knelt by her side and put a hand lightly on her shoulder while gesturing for Ahsoka to follow suit.

“Barriss,” she said, feeling her apprentice shake beneath her touch. “We only want to talk to you.”

“No no no _no_ ,” Barriss was saying, nearly hyperventilating. “Don’t make me go back, please, just kill me, I can’t do it _I can’t do it I_ —”

“We’re not!” said Ahsoka. “We won’t. I mean…” She glanced at Luminara as she crouched next to them. “We’re not, are we? Master, I know what the Council said, but…we _can’t_. Look at her.”

Luminara smiled faintly. She’d known she was right to have faith in Ahsoka.

“Barriss.” She waited until her padawan raised wide, panicked eyes before saying clearly, “I am not here to drag you back to the Temple in chains.”

Barriss blinked at her. “But...the Council?”

“The Council has its reasons for our being here. We have our own,” Luminara said as diplomatically as she could manage. “I did not inform them of our difference of opinion, though I’m not sure I can say the same for Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka did not look particularly ashamed.

Barriss hugged herself tighter. “Why are you here, then?” she whispered. “Why would you come after me if not to take me back? I...I wanted you to _forget_ me.”

“ _Not_ gonna happen,” Ahsoka growled.

“I have known you since you were a small child, Barriss.” Luminara said. “I could never forget you.” Barriss winced and lowered her head again at the words. Luminara cleared her throat and continued. “The Council thought that your...the word they used was _attachment_...would allow us to talk you into returning willingly.”

Barriss’ entire body tensed up. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t be part of the Order anymore. It’s not _right_ , I can’t be part of it, I won’t go back, I _won’t_ —”

“We know,” Luminara said, patting Barriss’ shoulder. “I tried to tell them.”

“You can imagine how well _that_ worked,” Ahsoka said, scowling.

“Indeed,” Luminara said drily. “Barriss, I will be honest with you. You have more than earned that. I am here because I am worried about you.”

Barriss’ head rose again, but she refused to make eye contact. Still, it was an improvement. “You’re just making trouble for yourselves. I’ll be fine on my own.”

Luminara saw Ahsoka’s skeptical look out of the corner of her eye. “Barriss, we’ve seen the kind of people you’ve been trying to get rides with, and that’s even if you weren’t running around...” The young Padawan gestured at their surroundings. “ _This._ You’re gonna get yourself killed. Or worse. The way you’re going, the only way someone will take you offworld is if it’s a one-way ticket to Zygerria.”

Barriss scowled at the far wall. “You said you wouldn’t try to take me back,” she said stubbornly. “I’d rather be here than the Temple.”

Luminara waved Ahsoka’s response to that aside before she could make Barriss any more defensive, and offered her apprentice a hand as she stood. Barriss hesitated, then reached out gingerly and let herself be pulled to her feet.

“You say that as if there are only two options, Padawan,” Luminara said quietly as Barriss squeezed the water out of her sleeves rather than look at either of them.

Barriss closed her eyes briefly at that. “I’m not a Padawan,” she muttered, and Luminara felt despair wash across their bond as she said the words. “I’m not even a Jedi. You can find someone better now.”

Luminara sighed. “I suppose I can’t argue with your first point. You’re _not_ a Padawan anymore, as far as I am concerned.”

Behind Barriss—who flinched in shock at the apparent rejection—Luminara could see Ahsoka make a frantic motion for her to stop talking. She ignored it, reaching into one sleeve. Some gentle touch of instinct in the Force had warned her she would need this, told her to go back for it, and she was grateful now that she’d listened. It was lighter than she remembered, almost delicate in her hand, and even in the shadow of the tunnel Barriss’ breath caught audibly as she recognized her own lightsaber.

“You are more worthy of Knighthood than many Knights I could name.”

Barriss’ eyes went wide. “I,” she stammered in shock. “You—Master, that’s absurd. I’m a failure, I betrayed the Order, even if I wanted to anymore I could never pass the Trials—”

“The Trial of a Knight is in facing adversity with grace, mastering emotions to embrace duty and compassion, understanding who you are and what you must become to serve the will of the Force. If the past year has been anything but your great Trial, Barriss, I would like to hear a better description.” Barriss stared, blinking back tears; behind her, a wide grin was beginning to spread across Ahsoka’s face. “As for your being a Jedi,” Luminara continued evenly, “Come now, Barriss. You know the Code better than that. What does it mean to be a Jedi Knight?”

Barriss swallowed, folded her hands behind her back seemingly on reflex, like this was an examination. “I…compassion. Peace. Protection of the innocent. Respect for all life in the galaxy. But I don’t deserve…”

“Are those not the values you uphold?”

After a long moment, Barriss nodded.

Eyebrows rising ever so slightly, Luminara inclined her head toward the water rushing under their feet. Barriss’ gaze flicked around the tunnel like she was waiting for some trap to spring; then, slowly, trembling, she dropped to one knee.

“I cannot say the words,” Luminara said. Only a Master of the High Council could, and Luminara couldn’t quite bring herself to presume that much, no matter what her opinion of their decisions at the moment. “But the words are a formality. What matters is the _Force_. What does it tell you now, Barriss Offee?”

Barriss closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, then let it out slowly. After a moment of looking inward, she spoke. “It says...that this is right. This feels right.”

Luminara held the lightsaber out to her. “Then take it,” she said softly. “Take the weapon of a Jedi Knight, and do good with it.”

Barriss’ fingers closed around her saber hilt, and they were steady.

Luminara let the moment stretch for a heartbeat, two, three—watched the fear and despair in her _former_ Padawan’s eyes fade to wonder and a fervent joy. But they were still standing in a drainage pipe in the depths of Coruscant, and she still had a duty to the young woman she had trained.

Releasing her hold on Barriss’ lightsaber, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the keys to the speeder they had taken from the Temple. It wasn’t hers to give away, technically, but it still felt like the right thing to do. “Take our speeder. We can find our way back to the Temple,” she said. She looked over at Ahsoka, who was standing at a respectful distance and watching them with awe. “I assume you don’t object to that, Ahsoka?”

Starting slightly at being addressed, Ahsoka hesitated. Luminara was taken aback; she’d meant the question to be teasing, a lighthearted release of tension, but Ahsoka appeared genuinely conflicted about her answer. The silence stretched on, and Luminara only became more confused.

Barriss stood and turned around to address her friend. “Ahsoka? What’s wrong?”

Ahsoka jumped slightly at Barriss’ voice, but the words seemed to snap her out of her indecision. She swallowed. “I think I do object to it, actually. I mean...” she broke into a nervous grin. “What’s a Knight without a Padawan?”

Luminara frowned. “Ahsoka?”

Barriss, however, seemed to understand perfectly. “No,” she said. “ _Absolutely not._ ”

Ahsoka crossed her arms. “Try and stop me. I’m _not_ letting you run off on your own.”

Luminara froze; her mouth dropped open in shock before she could think to control it. Somehow, she had never even considered this as a possibility. And yet, in retrospect, it seemed so obvious.

“I can’t ask you to do that!” Barriss insisted. “Not for me, Ahsoka.”

“You aren’t asking me. I’m telling you. I’m going with you.”

“ _You_ still have a life with the Order.” Barriss took half a step back. “You still have a future there, you can’t just... _throw it away like this!_ ”

Ahsoka stepped forward to match her. “Watch me.”

“Ahsoka—”

Ahsoka didn’t let her finish. “Jedi aren’t supposed to be alone, Barriss. And they’re not supposed to treat people the way the Order’s treated you. That’s not the kind of Jedi I want to be.”

Ahsoka wasn’t the only one of the two who could be stubborn. “But your Master—”

Ahsoka did wince slightly at that, but then she shook her head. “Anakin will be fine without me. He doesn’t need me, not like you do.” She gave her friend a jaunty grin. “Even if you _are_ a Knight now.”

Barriss looked like she was going to object again, and Luminara finally intervened. “Do you honestly think you can talk her out of this, Barriss?”

For a moment, Barriss still seemed ready to argue; finally she ducked her head and sighed. “No, Master,” she admitted, before looking up at Ahsoka with a weak smile.

“Then you have a speeder waiting, young ones.”

Barriss smiled at her, but it faded into worry. “What will you tell the Council?”

“The truth,” Luminara replied. “We spoke, Ahsoka decided to join you, and I could do nothing to stop either of you.” Suddenly remembering something, Luminara took the communicator off of her wrist and casually tossed it over her shoulder into the chasm behind them. “Sadly, I found myself unable to call for backup.”

Ahsoka laughed, though the mirth faded as she placed a hand over her own communicator. “I’ll… I have a plan to get rid of it. But I need it for something first.”

Luminara placed a hand on her shoulder. “I can give you two hours, padawan.”

Ahsoka nodded. “That’ll be enough. Thank you, Master Luminara.”

“Go,” she told them. “And may the Force be with you.”

Barriss bowed formally, and Luminara felt a stab of pride and pain; she had been right, there was a Knight’s bearing about her already.

“May the Force be with you, Master,” she said, a slight, sad smile at the corners of her mouth and the hint of sweetness that had almost been smothered by the war finally making its reappearance.

Ahsoka was already waiting at the end of the tunnel, looking down for the speeder. It was only a few feet below the drop, and Luminara had left the engine running. Barriss hadn’t worn a lightsaber belt in months and wasn’t wearing one now, but she slipped her saber into a deep pocket of her trousers and turned toward her friend, lifting her head and walking into the light and her future.

Luminara turned away and was about to begin a leisurely stroll back to the Temple when sudden footsteps made her look back. She had time to register Barriss’ face before surprisingly strong arms were flung around her, and Barriss buried her face in her master’s shoulder and hugged her in a rush of emotion that nearly knocked Luminara off her feet even without the impact.

After a moment of shock, she let her arms come up to hug Barriss back, holding her tight.

“Thank you, Master,” Barriss whispered. “Thank you for everything.”

 _It was an honor, young one,_ she thought, stroking the back of Barriss’ hood. _My first and best. It was a joy._

“Keep each other safe,” Luminara murmured, finally drawing back to brush a strand of hair from Barriss’ face where it had fallen free in her attempts to evade them. “And trust in the Force. Remember who you are, Barriss.” Barriss nodded, and Luminara smiled at her as best she could. “Now go.”

This time, Barriss didn’t look back. Ahsoka gave Luminara one last nod before dropping down into the speeder, and Barriss was only half a step behind her. Once the sound of the speeder’s engine had faded into the distance, Luminara turned around and began the long walk back.

* * *

* * *

Someone, Obi-Wan Kenobi realized with growing horror, was going to have to tell Anakin about this.

That someone, he realized with something that transcended horror entirely, was almost certainly going to be _him._

The holo jumped as it started its third loop.

_“Anakin, I don’t have much time, but I wanted to let you know that I’m safe, and that I’m not coming back to the Order. It’s not because of anything you did. This is just something I need to do. You’ve always tried to help me be the best Jedi I could be—”_

For the third time, the recording of Ahsoka looked up sharply, attention caught by something outside the range of the holobooth she’d rigged her communicator to.

 _“I know, I know. One second.”_ She looked back into the camera. _“_ This _is the kind of Jedi I need to be. You taught me everything you could, and now I have to use that to do what I know is right. I...I hope I see you again. I know I’ll see you again. Just, try to stay safe out there? Don’t worry about me. And don’t blame Master Unduli for this, she did everything she could to keep us from leaving.”_

Just past the holocam there was a faint _“Ahsoka!”_

 _“Right.”_ Ahsoka gave the booth an apologetic smile. _“Take care, Skyguy.”_ The holo skipped again. _“Anakin, I don’t have much time—”_

Someone finally switched off the recording.

After a heavy pause, Mace Windu sighed. “We should have seen this coming. After Padawan Tano’s outburst in our last meeting, we never should have kept her on this assignment.” As he finished, he gave a pointed look at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan ignored it and rubbed his eyes. His shuttle had arrived at Coruscant barely an hour ago, so he hadn’t adjusted to the time shift, and he could see that it was going to be a very long day.

“It was a calculated risk,” said Shaak Ti evenly. How she’d managed to brief herself on the last Council session so quickly, Obi-Wan had no idea. “This time, it backfired.”

Saesee Tiin’s hologram heaved a sigh and leaned back. “And you’re certain there was nothing you could have done to stop them, Master Unduli?”

“I was as surprised as any of you by Ahsoka’s decision,” Luminara said from where she stood in the center of the chamber. “I do not believe she was planning to join Barriss in defecting from the Order until we encountered her. Otherwise, she would not have risked being removed from the mission, no matter how strongly she felt.”

Obi-Wan agreed with that; he had more experience with Ahsoka’s subterfuge skills—or lack thereof—than anyone else in the room, and she was completely incapable of that level of deception.

He also noted that Luminara had not actually answered the question.

Master Windu frowned. “While I question Padawan Tano’s judgement, she is not our main concern. Was Padawan Offee armed during this confrontation? She poses enough of a security risk already.”

A pause. “She did not possess her lightsaber when we found her.”

And yet, Obi-Wan had a strong suspicion that Luminara had misplaced her Padawan’s lightsaber in the recent past.

Master Mundi had noticed her wording as well. “And...when she left you?”

He could have been imagining Luminara’s shoulders tightening ever so slightly.

“I did not see a weapon on her person as she left, Master Mundi,” she said quietly. “Though I was unable to observe closely.”

Obi-Wan had no doubt that it was the truth _—_ from a certain point of view. _Luminara, what have you done?_

“You have described the encounter in broad terms,” Master Windu said, leaning forward. “But not the detail I am most interested in. How did two young Padawans manage to escape a Jedi Master?”

“I’m curious about that as well.” Eeth Koth’s voice was neutral, maybe even concerned, but this time the no one on the Council could miss Luminara stiffening at the question.

“Controlling combat in close quarters is a challenge to any Jedi if they are unprepared for the encounter,” she replied, folding her hands behind her back. “And I admit Ahsoka’s decision caught me off-guard. Preventing them from leaving by force would have meant a serious chance of causing one or both of them permanent harm, which I was unwilling to risk. They did not pose a threat to myself or to the Order.”

“Are you certain of that?”

Obi-Wan silently wished that Eeth Koth had been unavailable for transmission rather than Plo Koon. But Luminara didn’t miss a beat. “I am. Barriss was completely unwilling to escalate the situation to violence. She was on the verge of hysteria.”

Mace Windu grimaced. “And if she crosses over that verge?”

Depa Billaba’s head snapped around, but before she could say anything, Luminara answered. “She will not, with Ahsoka there to guide her.”

There was silence as the councilors thought that over. Obi-Wan was the one to break it. “I agree. Barriss and Ahsoka together are at much less risk of doing something rash than either of them would be alone.”

Shaak Ti’s eyebrows went up, just a hint, as she leaned forward and looked over at him.

“Then you believe it may be in the Order’s best interests not to pursue?” She didn’t sound approving; but she wasn’t condemning the notion, either. “Such an act of faith could have a high cost if we are wrong. Barriss Offee is still a criminal in the eyes of the Republic, Master Kenobi. ”

Master Tiin shifted. “As is Padawan Tano, now. She assisted in the escape of a prisoner who confessed to sedition; she is guilty by association. To ignore that would be madness.”

Obi-Wan had several responses to that, but they were silenced by a calming gesture from Shaak Ti.

“No one has suggested simply granting these rogue Jedi freedom,” she said. “But I will remind this Council that the Republic is at war against a far more immediate threat.”

“Indeed,” Obi-Wan said. “Barriss Offee is no Count Dooku, by any stretch of the imagination.”

Depa Billaba nodded in agreement. “And wasting time and resources to track down a pair of rogue Padawans when we are facing an army led by a Sith Lord would also be madness.” She shot a look at Saesee Tiin before continuing. “Especially when neither of them have fallen to the Dark Side.”

There were murmurs of agreement from around the Council chamber, some more reluctant than others.

“We’ll still have to put out a reward for their capture,” Eeth said finally. “Jedi or not, we’re responsible for any damage they might cause.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “Do we really want to deal with bounty hunters so readily? Surely there are other options.”

“There’s one.” Eeth Koth was nothing if not blunt. “We track them down ourselves. And I agree with Master Billaba—that would be a waste of resources, not to mention a distraction from the greater danger.”

“But a bounty on both of them?” Mace Windu shook his head. “Only Padawan Offee has been found guilty of any crime.”

Even Obi-Wan couldn’t argue for that. “Ahsoka made her choice,” he sighed. “She had to have realized the consequences involved.”

Heads nodded around the room; no one seemed happy about the statement, but no one could deny it either.

“We’ll make certain they’re wanted alive. Unharmed, if possible.” That was Master Koth, which Obi-Wan supposed shouldn’t be as surprising as it was. The Zabrak Master glanced up at Luminara with something that could have been pity.

Yoda, who had been conspicuously silent until now, shook his head slowly.

“A sad day, this is. Lost two Jedi we have, in our attempt to bring back one.” He looked around the circle, meeting the eyes of everyone he could. “An agreement, we have reached?”

No one protested, and after a moment Yoda nodded. “Then in our decision, may the Force guide us.”

They took that as the signal to adjourn, most of them filing out of the room in silence with only a few nodding to Luminara as they passed her. Obi-Wan stood, but didn’t leave, waiting until he and Luminara were the only ones left.

“Master Unduli.”

Luminara almost winced; she managed not to, but Obi-Wan knew her well enough to recognize the aborted urge. “Master Kenobi,” she said, resigned. “I suppose you have questions.”

She walked forward until they stood just over a foot apart from each other. An awkward silence stretched between them while she looked up at him with a face devoid of expression.

He definitely had questions. He wanted to know what Barriss had said that finally changed her mind; wanted to know what made Ahsoka leave, what exactly Luminara knew about their plans, what resources they had access to, and a whole host of others. But asking those questions would mean acknowledging what they both knew. And he was a member of the Council.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “The Council has made its decision. I only wanted to say that I don’t blame you. I’m sure you did...the best you could.”

Luminara smiled, faintly. “Indeed.”

Obi-Wan felt simultaneous urges to return the smile and strangle her. _Anakin will never forgive you for this, blast you._ He would have to break the news as gently as possible. “Are you sure that they’ll be alright on their own?”

A fear he hadn’t even noticed until that moment faded from Luminara’s eyes, and her smile became more genuine.

“Quite sure, Master Kenobi.”

“Then I trust your judgement,” Obi-Wan said, bowing his head. “I must say, I’m curious as to what they will do with their freedom, such as it is.”

“I do not think we will be disappointed,” said Luminara.

Obi-Wan agreed with her. Maybe this _was_ for the best, after all

He was certainly grateful the girls had gotten their second chance. He trusted their ability to avoid bounty hunters well enough, even if it was someone like Cad Bane or Aurra Sing who went after them. And if they accomplished enough good out there, they might very well end up receiving a pardon once the war was over, and then there was a chance they could be convinced into returning. But even if they never did, Obi-Wan found that he was strangely happy for them.

Of course, that all hinged on there still being a galaxy left after Anakin received the news.

* * *

* * *

Ahsoka did not regret her life choices up to this point, but she _was_ giving them serious thought.

“Barriss,” she hissed. “Are you sure about this?”

“You’re the one who said this was our best way off-world,” her friend whispered back.

Ahsoka made a face. Okay, technically that was true. They’d managed to get a few thousand credits from selling the Temple speeder; less than what the model was worth, but when it was so obviously stolen they had to take what they could get. It was enough to keep them from starving, but only enough to get off-world if they found a _really_ generous pilot, and she didn’t like their chances of stowing away. She had mentioned that stealing a ship might be their best option.

She just hadn’t had a GAR supply base in mind when she said it.

But here they were, lying on their stomachs on top of a building overlooking it, observing the few clones milling around a small hangar. There wasn’t a lot of choice: a corvette, a pair of shuttles, a small squadron of V-wings. The shuttles were their only real choice; V-wings were too small to live out of and lacked hyperdrive, while the corvette couldn’t be operated by just two people and would attract _way_ too much attention.

Barriss shifted forward a few inches, brow furrowing as she examined the base through a pair of cheap scopes they had gotten from the same spacer shop that Ahsoka’s new clothes came from—a pair of form-fitting smuggler’s pants and a sleeveless navy top apparently so similar to her normal clothes that Barriss had actually dropped her face into her hands when Ahsoka put them on.

“If we time it carefully,” Barriss finally informed her, “We can get over the south wall without being spotted and hide behind those crates. From there we only have to mindtrick that pair of troopers to get onto the ship. If we’re fast enough, we can get out of the hangar with the shuttle before they have time to realize it’s being stolen.”

Ahsoka frowned. “Let me see that.” Barriss handed her the scopes and wiggled back along the roof to let her see properly. After a moment, Ahsoka shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “See? We’d still have to cross the whole floor of the hangar. Someone would see us.”

A small hand reached out and moved the scopes to the right.

“Wrong shuttle,” Barriss whispered.

Ahsoka blinked. “The T-6? I thought we were taking the Eta.”

“No.”

Ahsoka lowered the scopes and turned to stare at her.

“Barriss,” she said. “T-6 shuttles don’t have any weapons.”

Barriss did that thing that Ahsoka knew all too well, where her shoulders got all tense and she stared hard at whatever happened to be in front of her.

“I know.”

Ahsoka looked between her and the hangar, then swore under her breath. “You don’t think we might _need some?_ There’s _kind_ of a war out there.”

“I’m aware.”

Ahsoka’s eyes narrowed as Barriss continued refusing to look at her.

“Right,” she growled, grabbed Barriss by the elbow, and hauled her back along the roof until they were crouched behind a domed portion where no one would look up and see them accidentally. “Are you gonna talk to me?”

Barriss ducked her head and didn’t say anything, and Ahsoka rolled her eyes.

“Seriously, Barriss, what’s wrong? You can’t do this, okay? If we’re out here together you _need to talk to me._ ”

Barriss folded her arms tightly across her stomach. “We don’t need them. We  _shouldn’t_ need them.”

Suddenly, Ahsoka had a vivid recollection of being in a starfighter over the skies of Umbara, flying alongside Barriss in the opening skirmish. Half of the enemy ships had been piloted by living beings rather than droids. At one point in the battle, Barriss had hesitated taking a shot and had to be rescued by one of the pilots under her command.

Of course. Ahsoka should have realized it sooner.

She reached over and placed a hand over Barriss’ white-knuckled grip on her own arm.

“Okay,” she said softly. “Okay. No weapons.” If they got in a fight, Ahsoka would pilot them out of it. It would be fine. She smiled reassuringly. “Was that so bad?”

She thought Barriss blushed, but when she finally looked over she gave Ahsoka the shaky smile she’d spent five months missing.

“Right,” said Ahsoka. “Southern wall?”

* * *

It turned out there was a sentry on the southern wall they hadn’t seen. So _“if we time it right we can jump the wall and hide behind those crates”_ quickly became _“if we time it right we can rig a harmless explosion here, pull this cord to send these old bricks falling off that rooftop, springboard from this alcove over to this outcropping, and then jump the wall and hide behind those crates.”_

But at least in the end they only had to mindtrick one trooper, so really it was all for the best.

“We’re Jedi from the Temple,” Barriss said, smiling at the clone as she waved her fingers. “We need to commandeer this vessel to help track down a pair of fugitives.”

The red-striped clone lowered his blaster. “You need to commandeer this vessel,” he repeated. “I’ll clear it with traffic control right away, sir.”

Ahsoka cursed silently, but Barriss took it in stride. “That _won’t_ be necessary, trooper,” she said, waving her hand a bit more forcefully.

“That won’t be necessary,” he agreed. “Good hunting out there!”

Ahsoka hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until she suddenly let it out once they were on board. “I can’t believe you told him we were looking for _ourselves_.”

“The best lies have a basis in truth,” Barriss said, and Ahsoka thought she might even be _smirking_. Well, that seemed like a good sign.

“Strap yourself in,” Ahsoka said as she did the same in the pilot’s seat. “It won’t be long before they figure it out. And then things should get pretty interesting.”

“Define _interesting_ ,” Barriss asked flatly, running pre-flight checks from the co-pilot position as she pulled her flight harness on. Then, “Oh good. There’s fuel.”

They really should have thought of fuel _before_ they got to this point, but it was there, so Ahsoka didn’t worry. “Right, can you disable the locator beacon? Cut the red and blue wires behind that panel,” she said, pointing underneath Barriss' console.

“On it,” Barriss said. While she took care of that, Ahsoka started up the main generator and hoped the deflector shields were operating. They were probably going to need them.

Barriss’ console beeped just as she was reattaching the panel over the now-inert locator beacon. “Diagnostic complete,” she announced. “Green across the board. Whenever you’re ready, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka nodded and raised the ship on repulsorlifts. They couldn’t hear anything from outside, but she was sure that some of the clones were yelling before they had even shot out of the hangar. She had never planned on adding starship theft to her record, but these shuttles were cheap. The base would have a replacement within the day. “Sorry, boys,” she muttered. “We need it more than you do.”

“We’re being hailed,” Barriss said.

“See if you can buy us some time,” Ahsoka said, trying to fly as fast as possible without crashing into traffic.

“Right.” There was a ping as the comm activated. “Yes, what seems to be the problem?”

_“Shuttle 495A, your launch was unscheduled. Return to base immediately.”_

“We filed a flight plan before we launched,” Barriss replied. She sounded innocently confused.

_“We have no record, Shuttle 495A, repeat, return to base immediately.”_

“I’m sorry, we didn’t catch that, there must be something wrong with the comm,” said Barriss, motioning frantically for Ahsoka to pick up the pace.

_“This is your final warning. Shuttle 495A, return immediately or we will dispatch fighters.”_

“We’re on Jedi business!” Barriss protested.

 _“What?”_ The clone traffic controller was taken aback. _“Who is this?!”_

“Master...” Barriss trailed off. “Yoda!” She shut off the comm before they could hear the reply.

Ahsoka had to force herself to keep her eyes on the canopy and not give Barriss an incredulous stare. “ _Yoda?_ Seriously?!”

“I panicked! It was the first name I thought of!”

Ahsoka shook her head. “Well we’re in the stratosphere now, just have to hope they don’t send fighters after _Master Yoda_ before we get out of the gravity well.”

Barriss nodded and sat back in her seat, watching the radar screen closely. “Where are we going?”

“One thing at a time,” Ahsoka said. “Plan a random jump path for now, just make sure we don’t hit a star or something.”

“On it,” Barriss said, as an alarm began blaring. “Uh...”

“Interceptors?” Ahsoka asked.

“Yes, one minute out.”

“Trying to get missile lock on us?”

“Probably, yes.”

Ahsoka grinned and cracked her neck. “Bring it on.”

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Barriss give her a somewhat worried look. “Course is laid in, we have three minutes until we can jump.”

Alright. She just had to dodge the fighters for two minutes. She could do that. Dodge the fighters. The Republic fighters. The enemy Republic fighters. Ahsoka took a deep breath. There would be time to freak out over that _later_ , right now she needed to focus.

Strangely, once the fighters caught up to them, it was actually less nerve-wracking than before. Just dodge, deploy countermeasures when they fired missiles, spend the entire time internally screaming. Just like a normal dogfight with Vulture droids, only she wasn’t firing back. She was a better pilot than these clones, she was trained by _Anakin Skywalker_. She could do this.

“Countdown,” she bit out, setting the wings rotating to twist away from a fighter that had almost gotten a targeting solution.

“Out of the gravity well in thirty seconds,” said Barriss calmly.

“That’s nice.” There were reinforcements sweeping around from a command ship in orbit, flanking them worryingly fast.

“Twenty seconds…”

Okay, good, they should be able to outrun the reinforcements.

“Fifteen...”

The ship shook as the rear deflector shields took a hit.

“Ten...”

Ahsoka had to remind herself that yelling at time wouldn’t make it move faster.

“Five.” The tension in Barriss’ voice wasn’t helped by the fact that there was a homing missile alongside them, inching closer and closer right outside her viewport. “Four. Three. Two. One—”

“See ya later, boys!” Ahsoka yelped, pushing the lever forward. The stars streaked into infinity, and a moment later they were in hyperspace. Ahsoka leaned back and sighed in relief, rotating her chair to face Barriss’.

“Well.” Barriss wiped sweat off of her forehead. “That went well.”

“It did,” Ahsoka agreed. They sat there for a moment, staring at each other as they both caught their breaths.

Barriss was the first to break the silence. “We did it.” Her eyes went wide. “We...we really _did it._ ”

Ahsoka couldn’t keep an idiotic grin off of her face as she saw her friend’s sheer joy. The enormity of what they’d done hadn’t _quite_ set in for her yet, but Ahsoka was happy for her. They had a full tank of fuel; freedom to go anywhere in the galaxy.

“So I was thinking Nar Shaddaa for our first stop,” Ahsoka said after a while. “We can get the transponder changed there, probably a new paint job.” Flying around with GAR colors wasn’t a risk she wanted to take, especially if they ever wound up in Separatist space. They were just a couple of spacers in a military surplus shuttle now. “But after that is up to you.”

Barriss nodded, then stared off into space for a few moments as she thought it over. Ahsoka had turned back to the control panel to check everything was still working when Barriss made a decision.

“Umbara.”

Did she hear that right? Ahsoka looked back at her and raised her eyebrow markings. “You want to go to _Umbara?_ ”

Barriss nodded with conviction. “Yes. I want to help fix what I helped to break in the first place.”

After a few more moments of thinking _Barriss what the hell is wrong with you_ , Ahsoka finally relented. “Alright. Umbara it is.”

Barriss stood up from her seat. “I’m going to go lie down in the back. I haven’t slept in a while.”

Ahsoka could feel her own adrenaline rush starting to wear off; she thought sleep sounded like a very good idea. “Okay. I’ll get us on route to Nar Shaddaa and then join you.”

Barriss nodded and stifled a yawn behind her hand. Ahsoka suddenly realized she’d been on the run for at least two days, and she’d disappeared overnight; Barriss wasn’t kidding when she said it had been a while since she got a decent night’s sleep. Still, she paused before she left the cockpit.

“Ahsoka?” she said shyly.

Ahsoka fiddled with the navicomputer. This was why she liked astromechs so much. “Yeah?”

Barriss hesitated. “I...thank you. I know what you’ve given up. You don’t know what it means to me, you...thank you.”

Ahsoka looked over her shoulder and grinned.

“Nah,” she said. “It’s worth it.”


	3. Act II Part 1

  
“Are you _sure?_ ”

Ahsoka had to half-jog to keep up with her guide as he walked the perimeter of the outpost. It was eerily quiet considering the bustle of activity around them; Umbarans were dismantling fortifications and taking inventory of supply crates as they were loaded onto faintly glowing transports, all with barely a sound. There was tension all through the camp and the occasional sound of blaster fire in the distance. Not frequent enough to be a real skirmish; it was probably the banshees again. Good. With any luck they’d slow the GAR down enough that by the time they found this place, everyone would be gone.

“I just--” She flailed with one arm and almost fell over as she stopped short to very carefully step over a vixus tendril lying innocently across the path. “I’m not comfortable leaving you guys like this. It’s only going to get worse out there!”

The Umbaran--Socrner was his name, but she’d never been able to pronounce it well enough to feel comfortable using it--ignored her for several minutes, tapping notes into a sickly green holopad. Ahsoka _still_ didn’t understand the interface, and she’d flown one of their fighters a few times.

Finally, he switched the pad off and turned to face her.

“Yes,” he said with that oddly sharp-edged accent shared by the handful of Umbarans in the camp who spoke Basic. “Certain. Done enough.”

Ahsoka crossed her arms. Umbarans were humanoid, but she still wasn’t very good at reading their emotions. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Grateful for help. No more need. Jedi--attract too much attention.” He made a face and gestured around the camp. “Umbarans--Shadow People. Not want attention. Done enough. Need to leave.”

Even Ahsoka had to acknowledge that he had a point. When they kept their heads down it was different--Barriss was doing the work of half a medical team on her own, and Ahsoka could usually find some way to be useful; either helping reinforce the walls, learning and working on Umbaran vehicles, or just taking sentry duty. But lately Republic forces had been getting a lot closer and a lot more frustrated, and if Barriss or Ahsoka hadn’t accompanied supply shipments and recon teams it would have turned really ugly, really fast.

And once they’d announced themselves that dramatically, it was only a matter of time before the Republic stepped up efforts to track down this group of...well, the GAR transmissions they’d intercepted called them rebels, and maybe they were, but...they just wanted to be left alone. They were only trying to defend their home--none of them cared about the politics of the war. They weren't the ones who'd gone on the offensive first.

They _weren’t_ helping this group fight the troopers. They didn't stop them, but...that was too much for Ahsoka to even consider. They were just helping to keep the resistance safe. Still, it hadn’t taken long for Ahsoka to make the same realization that Barriss had over a year ago; the Republic was in the wrong on Umbara.

This was what Jedi were _supposed_ to do. Keep down casualties on both sides. If they were there to deflect blaster bolts harmlessly into the trees and sow chaos with harmless Force throws, the Umbarans didn’t have to kill anyone to defend themselves. Somehow, Ahsoka didn’t think the battalions assigned to hold Umbara appreciated their efforts.

Ahsoka rubbed her arm. They’d only been here for a month and a half, without any real violence, and she was already starting to resent Republic Command for being so _pushy_. No wonder Barriss had never really recovered from this place.

Socrner placed an awkward, uncomfortably cool hand on Ahsoka’s arm. “Good gesture,” he offered. “Worth a try. Raises morale, knowing Umbara not alone.” Ahsoka forced a smile, and he nodded crisply. “Come. We almost leaving. Time for you also.”

He was right. As they crossed the camp toward the slightly-less-forested area that passed for the Umbarans’ airfield Ahsoka could tell even through the gloom that most of the semi-permanent structures had already been torn down, and the tents and supply huts were already packed away. In less than an hour this would be an empty patch of forest.

It wasn’t hard to find the shuttle; Barriss had the gangplank down and a shaft of yellow light spilled out of it, to the visible annoyance of every Umbaran in the area. Ahsoka couldn’t hold it against them--Umbarans were used to the dark, after all--but she still rolled her eyes. They were venting their life-support system, and a shuttle this size couldn’t do that safely if it was closed up.

Barriss herself was sitting at the bottom of the gangplank resting her chin on her knees, but looked up and smiled as they approached.

“Ahsoka,” she said, accepting the hand Ahsoka offered her and allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. “Do we have the coordinates for the new camp?”

Socrner gave Ahsoka a sideways look. She didn’t need _that_ translated.

“About that,” she said. “They kind of want us to leave.”

Barriss jerked back. “What?”

Ahsoka turned to Socrner, who ignored her in favor of pulling up another list on his holopad. “Umbarans refuel your ship. Not payment. Necessary.”

Ahsoka glared at him.

“They said they appreciate what we’ve done, but if we stay any longer the Republic’s going to crack down on them, _hard_. I mean…we’ll just end up captured, and it would mean a lot of casualties on both sides. If they don’t want us here…”

“Of course,” Barriss agreed, though she still looked upset. “If they want us to go, of course we’ll leave.”

Ahsoka gave her a suspicious look. She knew _that_ tone, and made a mental note to get Barriss to talk about whatever it was once they’d cleared the planet. She was pretty sure her friend was internalizing things again, and that never ended well.

A loud clang interrupted her attempt to figure out what Barriss was worrying over this time. All three of them jumped, looking toward the noise to see one of the mechanics grumbling and struggling with a fuel line.

Ahsoka started toward him with a friendly smile. “Hey,” she said. “Need a hand with that?”

He gave her a filthy look and gestured her away with the stump of his left arm, and Ahsoka found herself suddenly hoping he didn’t speak Basic.

“I’m sorry,” she said hastily. “I-I didn’t see.”

The mechanic said something angrily in Umbaran. Socrner looked up. “He says: Not need anything from Jedi.” Ahsoka might have been imagining it, but she thought his lips twitched. “Not understand your words, either.”

Ahsoka winced and backed away while the mechanic stubbornly went about attaching the fuel line to their shuttle.  Ahsoka saw the line start to slip, and blinked when it held its position just long enough for the mechanic to fasten the connectors. A whisper in the Force had her glancing to the side, just in time to see Barriss relaxing subtly raised fingers.

“What...happened to him?”

Socrner raised an eyebrow and wordlessly pointed at one of the lightsabers on Ahsoka’s belt.

Ahsoka blanched. “A _Jedi?_ ”

Apparently the exchange hadn’t gone unnoticed by the mechanic; he called something to Socrner and checked the connection one more time before moving a few yards away to open a valve.

Barriss was tugging nervously at her sleeves. “It might have been Krell,” she reasoned. “He--he was fallen, it’s more likely to have been him than anyone else.” She didn’t sound convinced.

Socrner just looked at her. “For Umbarans,” he said, “very little difference.” After a moment, he took pity on Barriss and added, “He asks if you regret not getting there first, before other Jedi.”

Oh. Well. Barriss actually looked relieved by that, and Ahsoka couldn’t blame her for being glad it hadn’t been her. _This time_.

The rumble of the fuel pump slowly faded as their mechanic tightened the valve again and said something short and discordant. Socrner nodded to him.

“Finished,” he told Barriss. “Should leave quickly. Republic ships too loud, too bright for Umbara. You are noticed, if you leave too late.”

She inclined her head. “Thank you.”

“Same,” he responded. “Many lives saved here, Jedi. If more like this, perhaps war end sooner.”

Barriss swallowed heavily. “I--I only wanted to try to make up for my actions. I can’t undo what’s been done, but...” She looked away. “Thank you.” She turned to their mechanic, hesitated, and bowed formally. “And thank you, as well.”

The mechanic crossed his arms, stared at her impassively for a moment, and then said something they couldn’t understand before nodding to Socrner and walking away.

Barriss looked up. “What did he say?”

Socrner, for the first time since Ahsoka had met him, put away his holopad.

“He says,” he told Barriss, “We are not friends.”

Barriss cringed badly enough that Ahsoka took half a step toward her. The Umbarans had every right to despise them, she didn’t expect to be treated like a hero--but that was just being cruel for the sake of it. Sorcner held up a hand.

“Not friends,” he reiterated. “Neither enemies. Hard to admit wrongs, but Jedi guilt does not bring Umbarans back to life. Not forgiven; not condemned.”

Ahsoka thought that over for a moment, then nodded. “That’s fair.”

Barriss just stared at him before blinking rapidly and giving him the same deep, formal curtsy Ahsoka had only ever seen her give _Luminara_. “Thank you,” she said again, this time barely above a whisper. “It’s more than I would ask.”

Socrner wavered, glancing around for some response to materialize out of the darkness before clearing his throat and patting Barriss awkwardly on the arm with the tips of his fingers.

“Safe travels, Jedi,” he said to them both, and walked toward a transport that was just beginning to power up. He had to break into a jog to leap onto the side as it started to move, and Ahsoka raised an arm in farewell as they sped off.

“Well,” she said. “I think that’s everyone but us. They moved your wounded first, right?”

Barriss was staring into the trees where the last transport had disappeared.

“Barriss? Tower Command to Offee.”

Barriss started slightly when Ahsoka tapped the inside of her elbow, and looked over with a slightly dazed expression. “Yes,” she said, shaking herself. “The wounded were moved this morning.”

“Great.” Ahsoka took her hand. “The search patrol’s about thirty minutes out. I don’t know about you, but I say we get moving.”

Just for a moment, Barriss turned and looked back over the dark, twisting forests. Somewhere at the edge of the camp, a vixus stretched and yawned languidly. Ahsoka was used to them enough by now that the faint pink glow was almost pretty.

“Yes,” Barriss said finally. “Yes. I’ve...we’ve been here long enough.”

* * *

* * *

“..and it would allow for expansion out along that eastern cliff,” Ahsoka said, gesturing with one arm. “But it doesn’t solve the problem of people not having easy access to necessities. If we go with that one, we’ll need to have some kind of...of infrastructure in place, won’t we?”

Ahsoka’s companion considered her words. Aleema Syndulla looked much like her brother Cham, who Ahsoka had briefly met after Ryloth was liberated three years ago, though she was smaller and more delicate-looking. The appearance was deceiving, Ahsoka knew. Aleema had fought in the resistance alongside her older brother, as attested to by her lifeless left eye--blinded, she’d been told, by a Separatist concussion grenade.

“A wagon-wheel design is still the best way to keep access to central facilities as easy as possible to as many as possible,” Aleema decided. Ahsoka shook her head, but was interrupted before she could say anything. “But you’re right--it doesn’t allow for expansion.” Anger spiked briefly in the Force. “And I’m afraid there will be many more refugees before this war is over.”

And that was the problem. The camp was doing the best it could, but it hadn’t been planned very well when it was started and the lack of organization was taking its toll.

“You would think after three years things would be getting _better_ ,” said Ahsoka.

Aleema grimaced. “You would.”

Ahsoka couldn’t tell if Aleema was agreeing with her, or just thought she was being naive. Probably a little of both.

“You know,” she couldn’t stop herself from pointing out, “the Republic would send aid if you asked.”

“Which we won’t,” Aleema said bluntly. “Cham is barely content to let you and your partner stay here, and only because you’re not with the rest of the Jedi anymore.”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka muttered. “You like reminding us of that.”

“Hey,” Aleema said. “We do appreciate everything you’ve done for Ryloth. My brother is just stubborn as a blurrg.”

Ahsoka had to grin at that, but she was still worried. They _needed_ to figure out some way to restructure this camp that was sustainable, and they’d probably only be able to do it once--it was a big undertaking and required organizing the entire camp, all at the same time. People were already getting sick, going hungry despite food supply lines functioning properly. It was summer here, and there were enough people suffering from heat stroke to make it clear they weren’t getting enough water even though it was available.

Maybe she just wasn’t good enough at what Master Skywalker had always tried to teach her--thinking outside the box, finding solutions from unique angles--but Ahsoka didn’t see how they were going to keep this place running without Republic support.

And at the same time she completely understood why they refused to ask for it, which was frustrating. It would be so much easier if she could just blame this on stubborn Syndullas and have someone to be mad at, but if they asked for Republic aid they’d get it--along with tech, troopers, and warships in orbit. They’d make Ryloth a Separatist target all over again, and even Ahsoka felt stifled at the thought of it. She understood better now why so many systems didn’t want to be part of the Republic. No GAR officer understood how these people worked. What could a Coruscant rep know about Ryloth that the Ryloth natives didn’t know better? They certainly wouldn’t give Aleema final say on their decisions. It was like Barriss had said just a few days ago, the whole system was top-heavy and unstable--

Top-heavy.

“Aleema,” she said suddenly. “Maybe we’re thinking of this wrong.”

Aleema rolled her good eye. “We’re not talking to the Republic.”

“What?” Ahsoka shook her head. “No. Why does there have to be one central location? We could have a main processing section that’s separate from the parts where people live--that would solve the problem of disrupting everyone’s lives--and then instead of one hub we could have smaller ones strung along the camp. It would make it easier for people to access them--”

Aleema eyebrows raised in understanding. “And the same delivery lines we used to distribute food and water and supplies could be used to transport emergency cases to the main medcenter. We don’t have enough healers to not need a central location for them, but if the infrastructure already existed…”

“It’s better than what we have _now_ , at least.”

“And easier to modify as the population grows.” Aleema grinned. “Not bad.”

“I have my moments.”

Aleema gave her a look that said _don’t push it, kid_. “Talk to your partner,” she said. Unlike Ahsoka, who was mostly just helping out with whatever Aleema decided needed doing, Barriss had earned her respect almost the minute she walked off the shuttle. The camp had a few medics, some nurses, and one or two doctors, but no one who could compare to a Jedi healer. And no surgeons, except for a neurosurgeon who was the first to admit he wasn’t a lot of use here. “See how she wants to handle moving the medcenter.” Aleema frowned. “Where is she, anyway?”

Ahsoka glanced at her chrono. It was later than she’d thought. “Emergency at the medcenter,” she answered. “Some teenager got too close to a gutkurr. She’s probably done by now, I’ll go check on it.”

Aleema winced. “Poor kid.”

“Barriss’ll take care of him,” Ahsoka said confidently. She hoped she was right. It was far from the ugliest injury she’d seen Barriss heal, but you never knew what could go wrong.

“Hope so.” Aleema dismissed her with a casual wave. “We’ll draw up the plans tomorrow.”

“Sure thing,” Ahsoka agreed. Aleema turned down a dusty path towards her operations hub, and Ahsoka veered off toward the medcenter.

It was definitely too far a walk. At least it wasn’t humid, but in an area that was equal parts bare rock and stubborn tufts of dry grass, the dust kicked up by an entire camp hung in the air and made her eyes water. There were a few scraggly trees scattered among the tents and shelters, but they did nothing to counteract the heat.

Early in the morning or closer to dark, the camp would be chaotic as far too many Twi’leks tried to make use of far too few major “roads”. In late afternoon it was still too hot. The only people moving around were the ones who didn’t have a choice; Ahsoka spotted a few sentries coming in from their shifts, a handful of delivery drivers heading back to their tents. One sweaty, exhausted-looking teenager barely nodded to her as he passed, holding an ID card between his teeth and carrying several liters of water on his back tied together with twine--probably his family’s water ration for the rest of the day.

The medcenter, such as it was, was one of the larger buildings in the camp, though it was very cramped compared to the Jedi Temple’s Halls of Healing. They did their best to maintain some kind of sterile environment, but on a world like Ryloth that was easier said than done. Dust got _everywhere_. They had one surgical field that used so many power cells they couldn’t bring it up outside of dire emergencies, and the rest--well, they kept it disinfected, made sure the patients had airflow and water, and hoped for the best.

Ahsoka waved over a nurse who didn’t look busy; they answered her question before she could ask it. “She’s washing up in the back.”

Ahsoka nodded her thanks and ducked through a door sternly labelled MEDICAL STAFF ONLY. She knew her way around this place pretty well by now, despite the fact that she technically wasn’t allowed. It wasn’t like that had ever stopped her _before_.

She’d expected Barriss to look up when she nudged open the second door with a wave and an uncertain “Hey.” But Barriss didn’t seem to notice her. She was standing at a sink across the tiny room, scrubbing the back of one hand with a rag, and Ahsoka frowned. “Barriss?”

The sound of her name made Barriss start slightly. She blinked in surprise as she looked over her shoulder. “Oh,” she said. “Hello, Ahsoka. I didn’t hear you come in.” She was still scrubbing the same place on her hand, and while Ahsoka wasn’t an expert on Mirialan skin tones, she thought the spot looked a lot more raw than it should.

“Hey,” she said again, much more concerned. She stepped forward and took Barriss’ hands between her own, stilling the absent circle her friend was rasping into the back of her wrist. “Easy. What happened?”

Barriss still looked surprised. “Nothing,” she said. “Well--nothing new. I only just got out of surgery with Pol. He’ll have scarring, but he should make a full recovery. It’s a matter of preventing secondary infection now...why?”

Ahsoka glanced down at their clasped hands and winced. “Because you’re staring at the wall and trying to scrub your skin off?”

Barriss blinked rapidly again, took a deep breath, and let it out in an exhausted huff of laughter. “I’m fine, Ahsoka,” she said, finally smiling a little. “Really. The operation went as well as could be expected. I’m just...tired.”

“No kidding.” She’d been coming off a longer shift than usual last time Ahsoka’d seen her, and that was before she’d had to turn right back around and rebuild most of a teenager’s internal organs. No wonder she was falling asleep on her feet. “Here, let me.”

Barriss didn’t even protest as Ahsoka guided her back over to the sink and ran the rag under water again. She’d seen--only once, because Barriss wasn’t stupid--her friend forced to perform Force-augmented surgery without gloves available and it wasn’t pretty; this was different, probably from helping to carry the kid in when he arrived or getting rid of his ruined clothes after. Barriss sighed and stifled a yawn into her shoulder as Ahsoka ran the wet rag over her wrists and fingers, gently working the dried blood from her skin.

Barriss smiled and leaned against the sink while her friend cleaned her hands. “Thank you, Ahsoka,” she said quietly.

She sounded half-asleep already, and Ahsoka’s expression softened as she looked up. “Don’t mention it,” she said, giving a gentle squeeze to Barriss’ fingers. She ran the damp rag over Barriss’ arm again for good measure, then draped it over the faucet.

Barriss didn’t need to rest her hands in Ahsoka’s anymore, but she didn’t move them.

Ahsoka was taller than Barriss now, she realized; she had been for a while, but standing close and quiet like this she was suddenly aware of the height difference. Barriss almost had to look up at her, and there was something vulnerable in that she didn’t go tense the way she sometimes did when she had to look people in the eye.

Her lips twitched after a moment like she was embarrassed, but her fingers stayed over Ahsoka’s pulse and her gaze only flicked away for a moment before it came back, open and trusting. Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Ahsoka ran her thumb over the back of Barriss’ hand. She was rewarded with a widening of Barriss’ slight, exhausted smile, and the last of the tension finally left her friend’s shoulders.

The door flew open with a bang.

“There you are!”

Ahsoka very nearly leaped into orbit, biting her tongue around something even Anakin wouldn’t have said around a seven-year-old girl. Especially not a seven-year-old girl whose mother was a little bit terrifying.

“I— _kid!_ ” she said, letting go of Barriss to look at the young Twi’lek. “What the—”

“What’s happened, Ojeda?” Barriss asked, much more reasonably.

Ojeda Syndulla paused just inside the door, hesitating and apparently having just realized she might have intruded on something. “There’s, um, news. About the war. Mama sent me to get you right away!” Emboldened by remembering this divine authority, she added, “There was a big battle, I think. With the really big ships. And Jedi!”

Ahsoka and Barriss frowned at each other. That described most of the news over the last few years, and Ojeda was as prone to hyperbole as any seven-year old, but it must have been important if Aleema wanted them to see it.

Barriss took a deep breath that might have been a well-disguised yawn, and stepped forward to accept the urgent little blue hand Ojeda was holding out for them.

“All right,” she said kindly. “Lead the way.”

Luckily, Aleema’s operations center wasn’t nearly as far a walk. The building wasn’t much--smaller than the medcenter, and the ventilation wasn’t as good--but it had one of the only stable holonet connections in the entire camp.

Aleema glanced up from a fuzzy holo display as they ducked through the curtain that served as a door for Ops. “There you are.”

“Hey, Aleema.” Ahsoka leaned against the display across from her as Barriss allowed herself to be pulled obediently to Aleema’s side. Ojeda took her instructions seriously. “What’s going on? Separatists making another move on Ryloth?” That didn’t sound right. A battle of that size, they’d have seen signs of even during the day.

“Not Ryloth,” Aleema replied. Ahsoka was about to ask if they could have a little more information than that, but before she got a chance Aleema stopped fiddling with the transmitter and banged the side of the desk with her fist. The holodisplay jumped, jittered, and finally settled on the image of a Cerean newscaster. Ahsoka immediately recognized her as Taris-Keir-Peli, the anchor of Galaxy 9 Holonews on Coruscant. The battle must have been somewhere in the Core, then—

“ _...Chancellor Palpatine’s office has yet to release a statement addressing his kidnapping during the battle tonight, but—_ ”

“What?!” Ahsoka’s mouth dropped open in shock.

Barriss’ breath caught and she gave Aleema a wide-eyed stare. “The Separatists attacked _Coruscant?_ ”

Aleema gestured them silent. The image had changed to that of the smoking ruin of what looked like the forward half of a Separatist dreadnought, crash-landed on a Coruscant landing strip.

“...death toll has yet to be counted, as troopers and other rescue forces continue to search for survivors in the wreckage of crashed ships. Losses are already staggering, and the rest of us can only wait for reports and be grateful that the damage wasn’t worse.”

“They must be desperate,” Ahsoka muttered. “What were they _thinking?_ ”

Barriss was grimacing, no doubt at the death toll. “Dooku must have thought that capturing Palpatine would allow him to negotiate an end to the war. He already tried it once.”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka said shortly. She didn’t like to remember that mission on Naboo, as it always led her thoughts back to the image of Obi-Wan falling to what she had thought was his death.

_“The Jedi Order has so far not released a statement, although it is known that Jedi Knights Roron Corobb and Foul Moudama were killed defending the Chancellor prior to his kidnapping, and—”_

The anchor stopped mid-sentence, clearly receiving a report from off-screen. Ahsoka grit her teeth and glanced at Barriss to make sure she was still standing.

“We’re receiving a report that Supreme Chancellor Palpatine is currently making a statement, we’re going live to our reporter at the Senate.”

The feed cut to Chancellor Palpatine, surrounded by a flock of prominent senators and reporters, and standing next to him was—

Ahsoka’s heart leapt into her throat.

_Anakin!_

His hair was longer than it had been when she left, she thought, and even over the bad signal he looked a little bewildered. She was so distracted by his unexpected presence that she missed the start of Palpatine’s address.

“ _...completely fine, thank you, thanks to the efforts of Generals Skywalker and Kenobi_.” Palpatine gave a warm smile at Anakin, who sheepishly returned it. “ _If it were not for General Skywalker in particular, I doubt very much I would be alive right now. It was he who defeated Count Dooku in single combat and eliminated that dark threat once and—_ ”

“ _What?_ ” It was Barriss this time; Ahsoka was staring at the display, too shocked to speak. She couldn’t even focus on what the Chancellor was saying anymore. Dooku was _dead?_ And Anakin had been the one to kill him, after what felt like a dozen duels between the two of them.

She shook herself as the Chancellor wrapped up his statement and the feed switched back to a visibly stunned Taris-Keir-Peli.

“ _...Well_ ,” she said, shaking her head slightly and barely managing to maintain a professional demeanor through her grin. “ _Well, viewers, that’s certainly the good news we all wanted after today’s tragedies. The Hero With No Fear pulling through again. We’re going to take a break now; when we come back, hopefully we’ll have more reports from the search for survivors and our panel of war analysts, discussing what this news will mean for the Separatists and, potentially, the war as a whole.”_

Aleema silently muted the broadcast as it cut to commercials, and for a moment they just stared blankly at each other.

“I...don’t know what to say,” whispered Barriss finally. “I’ve felt the Dark Side in every facet of this war. Killing Dooku doesn’t change that, but…”

“This could end it,” Aleema said softly. She put a hand on Ojeda’s head, hugging her daughter gently against her side. “This could actually end it.”

Barriss turned to her, eyes wide and pleading. “Do you really think that?”

Ahsoka winced. “I’m not so sure. There’s a lot more to the Separatists than just Dooku, you know? I mean, as long as Grievous is out there the war’s not ending. And people who left the Republic willingly aren’t going to want to just come back. They might even fight harder now, to make up for the loss.”

Aleema shook her head. “Grievous was Dooku’s creature. The Separatists will still use him—they would be fools not to—but he doesn’t exist in a vacuum. If they choose to stop supplying him with droids and resources, he’ll be no more dangerous than any other murderer.”

Ahsoka rubbed at her elbow nervously. She wasn’t so sure about that; she had survived two duels with Grievous and still wasn’t entirely sure how she’d managed it. “If the Jedi are able to take out Grievous—” a task she suspected would require half the Council “—then they’ll be done, no doubt about it.”

Barriss’ head snapped around to her. “That’s not the only way,” she insisted. “With Dooku gone, other Separatist leaders will have a real voice. Bringing Separatist planets back into the Republic is _not_ a victory. We may be able to finally open diplomatic communication and allow both sides to live in peace, the way we should have done from the beginning!”

 _You sound like Padmé_ , Ahsoka thought with a grin. Out loud she said, “You’re right. This is good. This could be good.”

Aleema let the moment stretch, then rubbed her hands together.

“Well,” she said. “The war isn’t going to end overnight. Barriss, we need to talk about some relocation plans—”

“Tomorrow,” Ahsoka interjected. She shot Aleema a warning look. Barriss was dead on her feet already, Ahsoka’s head was still spinning as she tried to absorb the scale of what had just happened, and somewhere lightyears away her master might have just single-handedly saved the galaxy. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

They could have tonight, just tonight, to enjoy the unfamiliar sense of hope.

* * *

* * *

Ahsoka’s hand emerged from a jumble of pipes. “Hydrospanner?”

Barriss handed it down to her. There was a pause, some growling, and a loud clunk before a geyser of violet steam burst from one of the valves. Ahsoka swore, dropped the hydrospanner on what sounded like her foot, and dove for the valve’s controls.

Barriss raised an eyebrow.

“I’m fine!” Ahsoka called up after a moment. “It’s-- _ow_.” She clapped one hand over the montral she’d just bashed against a protruding pipe. “It’s supposed to do that!”

Bariss’ lips twitched. “Really.”

Ahsoka wriggled out of the maintenance crawlspace and looked up at her. “It _is_ , actually,” she said, crossing her arms. “That’s what happens when you overload an engine vent.” She waved the hydrospanner carelessly next to her head. “I just….didn’t mean to overload the engine vent. Hand me that wire stripper.”

Shaking her head, Barriss called the wire stripper to her hand with the Force and handed it down. Part of her felt guilty--her master would never approve of her using the Force so frivolously--but she justified it with the thought that it was harmless and efficient and after all, Ahsoka did need her here. And it felt like years since Barriss had taken a day off. She was stretched out next to the maintenance hatch, resting on one hand, and just comfortable enough that she _really_ didn’t want to get up.

Surely as long as she didn’t make a habit of it....well, she could hear Master Luminara’s opinion of that kind of thinking in the back of her mind already, but every Knight had to find her own balance. Perhaps too much control was as dangerous as too little.

“ _Ha_.”

Barriss fought back a laugh as she leaned over the drop to check on Ahsoka. “Progress?” she asked.

“I think I figured out what’s been causing that weird rattling in the landing gear.”

“Ahsoka!” Barriss had to resist the urge to pinch her nose with her free hand. “You said you were doing routine engine maintenance.”

Ahsoka looked up, her expression partially obscured behind her oversized mechanic’s goggles. “Yeah, but I found it anyway.”

“Well,” Barriss sighed. “You may as well, while you’re down there.”

Ahsoka threw her a casual salute and slid back into the crawlspace. Her voice was muffled as she shouted back, “While I’m at it I thought I’d give life support a boost! The system’s not designed for more than seven people at a time.”

“That’s probably--” Barriss was cut off by a series of loud bangs that she very much hoped were not life support.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said that’s probably a good idea!”

Ahsoka responded with what sounded like assent, and Barriss shook her head affectionately.

A hesitant knock from the open cargo bay door brought her out of her reverie, and she looked up in surprise at the sky-blue Twi’lek hovering in the opening.

“Sorry to interrupt, ma’am,” he said anxiously. He held an oddly-shaped piece of canvas that he was twisting in his hands; Barriss recognized the specialized wide-brimmed hats often worn by farmers in the area with something approaching fondness. She liked Jesik--his powerful build and broad shoulders had been threatening at first, but there was a farmboy sweetness in his nature that she couldn’t help but respond to. “I know we’re a little early, I hope it’s no trouble. I just didn’t want to have to rush, you told us he’s supposed to still be resting his leg…”

“Don’t bother the lady, love.”

Inegar, like his husband, was built like a bluurg with none of the attitude. He was darker, navy to Jesik’s powder blue; even Aleema had commented once that they made a very pretty pair. He paused halfway up the loading ramp, shifted his weight onto his good leg, and let Jesik reach out and take one of his crutches so he could shake Barriss’ hand as she picked herself up and approached them.

“It’s no trouble,” she assured them both. “We’re almost ready to leave. You should sit down,” she told Inegar firmly. He flashed her a broad, earnest grin.

“I’m tougher than you think, ma’am,” he said, miming a tip of the hat currently dangling along his back. He reached out to pat his husband’s hand before Jesik could protest. “But far be it from me to argue with a lady.”

“Go sit,” Jesik fussed. Inegar rolled his eyes good-naturedly, took his crutch back and started making his way toward the corner Barriss had converted into a breakfast nook a few months after Umbara. She’d gotten tired of trying to balance meals in her lap in the cockpit, even if they were just ration bars.

“Uh,” came Ahsoka’s voice, echoing oddly from the maintenance hatch. “Barriss?”

“One moment, Ahsoka,” she called over her shoulder. Jesik had pulled out a worn leather pouch and seemed to be trying to find a tactful way to offer it to them; Barriss took pity on him and accepted the sheaf of credits with nothing more than a smile and a nod. She didn’t insult him by counting them.

“Wish it could be more, ma’am,” Jesik told the ground, fiddling with his hat again. “But there was barely a harvest the last few years with the droids, and things’ve only got worse around here…”

Barriss inclined her head. “The war has taken its toll everywhere,” she assured him gently. “I wish we didn’t have to ask for payment at all, but…” A rhythmic clicking sounded in the floor as Ahsoka tightened some valve or other, and she gave a little half-laugh. “We do have to keep the ship flying.”

“Barriss!”

“What is it, Ahsoka?” she called, leaving Jesik to look after his husband.

“Can you hand me that plastoid tape?” Now that she was closer, Barriss could make out a high-pitched mechanical whine from the crawlspace. “Uh, now? Thanks.”

Barriss decided she was much happier not knowing, and handed down the roll of tape.

She brushed herself off as she stood again and glanced at their chrono; it generally ran about two standard minutes fast, but even so it was later than she’d realized. A quick duck into the cockpit let her transfer the credits from Jesik into the only safe onboard the shuttle. They were all there, as she’d known they would be--about twenty more than they had actually asked for, and she shook her head at the pair’s stubborn generosity as she put the extra back in the pouch to return to them.

She returned to the cargo bay just in time to hear an urgently beeping alarm being hastily shut off under the floor panels, and a child’s voice yelling “ _No!_ ” somewhere outside the shuttle.

Curiosity mixing with concern, Barriss stepped halfway down the loading ramp and blinked in surprise. She recognized one of the young twi’leks nearby--a teenage girl who had flagged her down the other day and all but begged to know their price for chartering a single passenger offworld. Barriss’ inquiries as to whether she was in some kind of trouble had been brushed off, but the girl had all but fainted with relief upon realizing she could just barely afford the price Barriss gave her.

She made a face at that. Charging for the simple act of bringing refugees offworld rankled with both her and Ahsoka--but they couldn’t always depend on charity to fuel the shuttle and keep themselves fed. If a group of people combined could scrape together enough credits to refuel the ship, they couldn’t afford not to ask it of them.

The child, however--her, Barriss did not recognize. She was clinging to the teenager and Barriss hadn't seen a look that stubborn on a youngling since she last saw Caleb Dume.

“I don’t _wanna_ ,” she said angrily.

“Navida,” the teenager begged her. “Please, sweetheart, I don’t like it either, but this will be so much better for you…”

“No,” said the little aquamarine Twi’lek. She clutched at the older girl’s arm; Barriss hadn’t actually gotten the teenager’s name, she realized suddenly. “I wanna stay with _you!_ ”

“You can’t,” the teenager said, blinking back tears. “You can’t, this isn’t any place for you. I need you to be strong for me, can you do that?”

“No,” Navida said firmly. “You come too.”

“I will,” her sister promised, trying to pry the little girl’s hands away from her. “I’ll be right behind you. But for right now…”

_“No!”_

Barriss cleared her throat as she walked up to them, hesitating well out of arm’s reach. The teenager looked up and winced, trying to stand before tiny nails dug into her seafoam arms and stopped her from moving any further.

“I’m sorry, Master Jedi,” she said. Barriss didn’t bother correcting her; concern for the little girl outweighed humility. “It’s my sister--we talked the other day, you said--if the place is still open for a single passenger, I--we have a cousin on Alderaan, he said he’d take her in, I can’t keep her here when she could have a life--”

Navida took a deep breath, and Barriss had a strong suspicion what her next word was going to be. Smiling at the little girl, she knelt beside them and glanced at her older sister. “May I?”

“Please.”

Barriss offered Navida a hand; she looked at it like she was considering biting it, and Barriss decided to pull it back. “This is your sister?” she asked gently.

Navida nodded firmly.

“I’m all she has left,” said the teenager. “I’m Chetai, by the way. It’s...a miracle I still have _her_. Our parents…” She swallowed with difficulty, and Barriss placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. Chetai nodded once, and Barriss took her hand away.

“I wanna stay with _her_ ,” Navida growled. “I don’t _wanna_ leave!”

Chetai put her free hand on the back of her sister’s head, holding her close. “It’s just been us since the...the invasion,” she explained. “I...she’s my little sister, you know?” She smiled weakly. “I have to take care of her.”

“I agree.” Barriss stood, and Navida actually bared her teeth. Chetai’s hand tightened reflexively on the little one’s tiny lekku, and Barriss offered her a hand--suddenly and vividly remembering the dust and heat of a Geonosian morning, and how surprised she’d been to be offered friendship from such an unexpected quarter. “You can hardly do that from here.”

Chetai stared at her. “What?”

Barriss raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smile solely to spare the girl’s feelings in a way she remembered her master doing countless times. Briefly, she wondered if she had the same reassuring spark of kindness in her eyes, but dismissed the thought. There were some things that couldn’t be replicated.

The teenager was shaking her head. “I--thank you, but I can’t afford…”

“You’ve paid your part of the fuel. She needs you,” Barriss said, and that seemed enough to decide the issue. She glanced over her shoulder; a small group of Twi’leks she recognized and a handful she didn’t was loitering around the lowered ramp of their shuttle. With those six, and one more on the way, plus the newlyweds, plus her and Ahsoka… She turned back to Chetai with a wry smile.

“We’re not going to have room anyway,” she pointed out, “So you may as well join us.”

* * *

* * *

 Flying the shuttle with four young children crowding around her was proving to be quite an adventure.

“Ooh!” That was one of the Twi’lek kids--the little boy, Ahsoka didn’t know their names yet. “What’s that do?”

“Don’t touch it,” she said automatically, and then looked over to see what it was. She grinned. “That turns the hyperdrive on. If you hit it right now, we’d crash into the sun.”

“Cool,” said his sister--Aina, she was pretty sure was the kid’s name. Ahsoka sighed, but couldn’t quite stop smiling. The kids had all flocked to the cockpit almost the moment they came onboard, and now that the shuttle was actually out of the atmosphere and in a holding orbit over Ryloth, their big awestruck eyes were enough of a reward for this whole trip.

“Never been in space before, huh?” she asked one of the older girls. The kid, a goldenrod twi’lek with a lot of freckles, shook her head silently.

“It’s so _big_ ,” she whispered.

“Space does that,” Ahsoka agreed. “All right, all right. Everyone quiet. Navida, don’t touch my gyroscopics, please. Shh. I mean it, I have to talk to traffic control.”

That, apparently, sounded boring. The kids pushed their way back into the main body of the shuttle, and Ahsoka shook her head as she flicked open a comm channel. _Kids_. It was a short exchange--there wasn’t a lot of civilian traffic around Ryloth these days, however weird it felt to _be_ civilian traffic. She got the vector for their exit pattern, put the shuttle on autopilot, and took a minute to breathe deeply. Finally she stretched, cracked her back, and decided to face the music.

The shuttle was actually not as crowded as Ahsoka had been worried about. A ship designed with four people in mind, and not intended to house upwards of seven for more than a few days, strained a bit with this many Twi’leks onboard; but it was just under eighteen hours to Alderaan, and they could deal with budging up for that long.

She felt a faint twinge in her bladder as she stood up, and made a face. _Thirteen people and one ‘fresher._ That would be the real problem.

For the most part, people were hanging out in the cargo bay; it was a little less cramped down there. She spotted Barriss across the room as she entered, talking to Nei--mother of three of the kids who had almost launched them into Ryloth’s sun at the speed of light, with baby Lerya fussing in her arms. Ahsoka smiled and started towards them, only to make an immediate about-face when she realized she would have to pass Nei’s father to get there.

“...never listen anymore,” he was griping to a captive Inegar. Literally captive, Ahsoka thought drily, considering his crutches were leaning against the wall behind him and he couldn’t get away. “Grandpa Lerom” had been going on in this vein for the past hour, and it didn’t sound like he would be winding down any time soon. “These kids think they invented space travel. Back in my day we had proper starships, none of this spinning nonsense. And we didn’t need droids to run ‘em, either! I remember...”

Ahsoka bit her tongue as Jesik moved in to rescue his husband, and went to hurry back to the cockpit before Lerom could spot her.

If it weren’t for her montrals, she might not have picked up on the conversation going on in the corner.

“...I’m telling you, there’s something up here! They let you on for _free_ , who _does_ that?”

Ahsoka frowned and glanced over her shoulder. Chetai had her arms crossed, glancing around the room as one of their other passengers hissed urgently at her. She thought his name was Erym. He’d dealt with her instead of Barriss, and she hadn’t liked him much; but he’d covered half the fuel on his own and it wasn’t Ahsoka’s job to decide who deserved help and who didn’t. That was why they’d left the Order in the first place.

“They’re Jedi,” Chetai muttered back, under her breath. Ahsoka leaned against a pipe across the bay, ostensibly watching the kids play tag around their mom’s legs. “We can trust them.”

“ _Ex_ -Jedi,” Erym insisted. “Just like Dooku, and everyone said he left because he ‘disagreed with the Order’ too. With that kind of power, in a war like this? They could make a fortune on people like us!”

Chetai hissed, glancing at her sister. “If you’re so convinced, why sign on?”

“Same as you. No choice. Like they don’t know we’re desperate! Communication’s spotty at best. Who’s going to notice if eleven refugees just conveniently disappear? You don’t think it’s suspicious how eager they were to bring the pretty young female Twi’lek onboard?”

“Will you _stop_ that?”

Erym’s hand drifted to the long-barreled blaster hanging from his hip. “I just want you to be ready! You want to protect your sister, right? You watch those two, and stick with me when they make their move. _I’m_ not going to the Hutts or somewhere worse without a fight--”

Ahsoka couldn’t keep her mouth shut any longer. “You do know I can hear you, right?”

Chetai winced, and Erym actually whirled and drew his blaster before Ahsoka jerked it out of his hands with a flick of her fingers in the Force. She wasn’t taking chances with a charged blaster. Not in close quarters in a cargo bay full of kids. Erym looked shocked, which confirmed her suspicion that he had no idea how he planned to go up against a pair of Jedi on his own.

“We’re not selling you into slavery,” she told him, slipping the charge pack from the blaster. She crossed the cargo bay as casually as possible; even so, Chetai flinched back. Ahsoka smiled at her before handing Erym his blaster and its charge pack, separately. “Besides. Even if we wanted to, we could still charge you a fortune first. Ever considered maybe there’s just people in the galaxy who still want to help each other?”

Erym stammered awkwardly and looked at the floor. Ahsoka clapped him on the shoulder and stepped back just in time for Chetai’s sister to race between them, followed by the dark orange shape of one of Nei’s girls.

She looked around the cargo bay. Somehow, Jesik appeared to have drawn Grandpa Lerom into a discussion of hovertractor engines and planned obsolescence, a subject on which they shared identical--and identically fiery--opinions. The kids had their tag game and everything breakable or sharp had been squared away, so that should be fine, and Nei…

Nei had just handed her baby over to Barriss, looking grateful for the break. Little minty Lerya was calmer now, blinking sleepily as Barriss tucked her in the crook of her arm, and _Barriss_ …

Ahsoka had to stop and lean against the wall, unable to keep what had to be a stupid-looking grin off her face.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Barriss this incredibly, overwhelmingly happy.

She just--looked so right like this, with that wide tentative smile like she was afraid to really enjoy this moment in case it was taken away but couldn’t help enjoying it anyway. She was letting Lerya grab into her finger, talking to her quietly and bouncing her whenever she started wiggling in response to a loud noise. The kids kept running up to ask her questions, and she managed to give them all real answers without jostling the baby or confusing them--which was something even Ahsoka struggled with sometimes if she didn’t have a script.

 _What were they thinking?_ something in the back of Ahsoka’s mind whispered for the thousandth time. Barriss, no matter what, no matter how hard things got, always had all the time in the world for a youngling. Healing and helping kids--she was born for this. _What were they trying to prove?_

Ahsoka shook the thoughts out of her head. Whatever the Jedi Council had intended didn’t matter now. Barriss was smiling, soft and sweet and unguarded, and that was all she cared about.

She watched Barriss until the timer on her comlink buzzed; time to make the jump to Alderaan. Startled by the sound, Barriss made eye contact with Ahsoka for the first time since she had come in. Ahsoka spared a moment to wink at her before she called out to the younglings. “Hey kids, come up to the cockpit with me. You’re going to want to see this.”

She thought she might even let them pull the lever.

* * *

The end of the universe as Barriss knew it was interrupted when someone poked her in the face.

She was too tense to start awake; instead she lay there without opening her eyes. For a moment she was so disoriented that she couldn’t quite remember where she was. The hum of the ship’s engines and the mass of gentle snoring reminded her; they were in hyperspace, en route to Alderaan. The fear and vivid images of the nightmare were already beginning to fade, the details slipping away under her ragged breathing.

_Poke._

Blinking into the dark, she raised one hand and rubbed at her eyes until the blurry image of a young Twi’lek face just inches from her own became clearer. Now that she could see, she recognized Anolo, Nei’s second youngest.

He poked her again.

“You awake now?” he whispered.

Barriss stared at him for a moment before nodding. “Is something wrong? What do you need?”

Anolo shook his head. “Were you having a bad dream?”

He scooted back as far as was possible with their limited floor space as Barriss sat up to lean back against the wall, knees tucked up to her chest. With the adrenaline rush from the nightmare fading, she found herself much shakier than she had realized. Still, she tried to muster a smile for the child’s sake.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “Thank you for waking me.”

Anolo nodded. “Are you okay?” he asked, gravely serious. “I can get you some water.”

“No, thank you,” said Barriss. “I’m fine. I’m used to it.” Nightmares were nothing new for her—she had two years’ worth of terrible memories for her subconscious to choose from, and it rarely showed her mercy.

Anolo nodded again, fiddling with a stray thread on his sleeve. Even in the dark, Barriss could recognize the expression of a youngling with something on his mind. She held out her arm in a wordless offer, and he immediately moved over against her side.

“I didn’t know Jedi get nightmares too,” he whispered.

Barriss let out a soft breath of laughter. “Neither did I, until I started having them.”

He looked up at her with wide eyes. “Do you want to talk about it? My mom always lets me tell her about mine, when I have them. It helps.”

She felt like agreeing to his request would _him_ get back to sleep as much as it would help her. “To tell you the truth, I can’t remember the details.” She felt like it was just on the tip of her tongue, that she was on the verge of remembering something hugely important and awful, but as usual it had slipped away from her as soon as she woke up. As unsettling as the nebulous, all-consuming sense of _wrongness_ it had left her with felt, it was almost a relief. Better than reliving Umbara for the eight thousandth time.

“Just...bad?”

‘’Yes,” she said.

Anolo frowned. “You kept saying something in your sleep. I couldn’t tell what it was.”

Barriss squeezed him gently. “Don’t worry about me. It was only a dream.”

“Dreams are scary,” he said. “Is it true that Jedi dreams always come true?”

“Sometimes the Force speaks to us in dreams, yes,” she answered. At his sudden look of alarm, she added: “Not that one, though.”

He regarded her warily. “Are you _sure?_ ”

“I can tell the difference,” she said. She could count on one hand the number of true visions she’d experienced; she didn’t possess much of a talent for foresight. “And the other kind are only ever a possibility. Even if they _do_ come true, it’s rarely in the way that we expect.”

Anolo thought it over for a moment. “Doesn’t seem that useful, then.”

Barriss had to bite her tongue to force back a sudden burst of laughter that surely would have woken everyone on the ship. Out of the mouths of babes.

“You’re right,” she told him, smiling. “My master always told me not to place much stock in dreams. Their meaning only ever becomes clear in hindsight.”

Anolo nodded against her ribs.

“I’m cold,” he whispered.

Barriss felt around with her foot until she found the hooded cloak she’d been using as a pillow. She pulled it closer, shook some of the dust off, and tucked it around him.

“Sleep if you can, youngling,” she said softly. “It’s almost morning.”

He looked over at the doorway to the cockpit, where the faint glow of hyperspace was visible. “You sure? It’s kind of just... _blue_ out.”

She suppressed another laugh. “Space travel is like that. Now we _both_ need to sleep.”

It was a testament to how tired he must have been that Anolo didn’t even put up a token protest to this idea, wriggling himself into a more comfortable position with Barriss’ leg as a pillow. She stifled a yawn behind her hand and rested her head back against the wall. It wasn’t quite comfortable, but just for tonight it would do.

The child’s trust in her was doing wonders to chase away the remnants of her dream. The creeping threat she’d woken with was harder to believe in when there was a young twi’lek sleeping next to her without a care in the world. The low whisper of the ship through hyperspace, the sound of shifting blankets and deep breathing from the refugees carpeting the floor of the shuttle—even Lerom’s faint snoring from what was normally her and Ahsoka’s cabin was reassuringly steady and calm.

The ‘fresher door hissed open across the room; Barriss winced as the interior light clicked on automatically and was hastily shut off again.

As Anolo had pointed out, it wasn’t entirely dark in the shuttle; still, it took several moments before her vision returned to anything other than hazy blue shapes swimming on a pitch-black field. She peered in the general direction of where Ahsoka had been briefly silhouetted in the doorway and found her friend similarly blinded, rubbing her eyes and looking out over the room. Ahsoka offered Barriss a tired half-wave when she saw her awake, then returned her attention to the floor as she tried to pick her way through a minefield of sleeping twi’leks.

Barriss closed her eyes and tried to get back to sleep.

* * *

* * *

Luminara Unduli took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she stood at a viewport above the remote planet Akiva.

There hadn’t been a Separatist attack to retake the planet—yet. Intelligence indicated the system would be one of three potential targets for the next strike, but Jedi intelligence was less reliable than they would like with the war stretching them so thin; Tholme couldn’t do _everything_. She shook her head and tried not to wish for more reliable news from the Chancellor’s office.

If the Separatists did launch a campaign here, the jungle would be a challenge to their troops. Luminara had volunteered to handle strategic command in the hope of minimizing their casualties. Losses of clone life were climbing too high, too fast.

 _Barriss would have hated it here,_ she thought. Too much like Umbara, or Drongar.

Still, she almost hoped the attack _would_ take place on Akiva. Better than on a densely-populated world, or one with less natural cover—for all the good it would do clone troopers in white armor.

It was the location of the planet itself that concerned her. What little backup the Republic could spare would be hard-pressed to reach any of the possible targets in time to make any real difference; wherever the hammer fell, it was likely the force awaiting it would stand alone. Obi-Wan and Skywalker had taken a similar watch over the other two high-risk locations and, in theory, each of them would respond immediately when the attack finally came on one of their targets. But they were far-flung, especially here, and transit would be tricky.

_Assuming Skywalker comes at all._

The thought had sprung up without permission, and Luminara chided herself for allowing it. If he had been less than friendly since...if he had been less than friendly, it was because he was in pain, and it fell on her to forgive him that. She could take a lesson from her former apprentice in this much; how many times had she seen a wounded trooper lash out at any attempt at healing? And never once had Barriss borne ill will for any harsh words that sprung from pain and fear alone.

Crisp footsteps from across the bridge interrupted her thoughts. She turned from the viewport just as Gree snapped to attention a few feet away, clicking his heels together and saluting sharply with his helmet under one arm. “General.”

“Commander,” Luminara nodded, at which Gree relaxed. “What is it?”

“We’ve, um,” he glanced around the bridge, then cleared his throat before continuing. “We’ve been listening in on the enemy’s news broadcasts, sir—the civilian channels. We found something you’d be interested in.”

Luminara raised an eyebrow. “Is this tactical, or something else?”

He shook his head. “Not tactical, sir, just...follow me.”

Somewhat bemused, Luminara followed him. Gree’s reports were never hesitant—it was a word that could not be applied to him in any way. Some part of her wondered, resigned, what her men had gotten themselves into this time that required a discreet reason to call her away from the bridge.

He took her down to the barracks level; Gree stood back formally and held his hand in the doorframe of one of the trooper lounges, letting her enter first before following and allowing the door to close behind them.

Crash and two others—one of whom Luminara recognized by a forehead tattoo as a member of what was colloquially known by the clones as Offee’s Rescue Squad, another she was less familiar with—were waiting by a communications console. Crash himself looked restless.

“General,” the second clone said with a polite nod.

She sighed. “Commander, may I assume there is some kind of explanation forthcoming?”

Crash answered her before his commander got a chance. “It was just standard intelligence scanning, sir,” he said eagerly. He inserted a data chip into the console and started fast-forwarding through the fuzzy holoimage that popped up. “Official communications are hard to intercept, and we’re not a tech squadron, but Commander Gree has us monitoring unsecured Seppie news networks. Sometimes what they don’t talk about says a lot, and it’s always good to know what story the enemy’s telling, sir. Keeps us on top of their propaganda, and we’ve gotten one or two pieces of real information just from putting things together.”

“Admirable, I’m sure.”

Crash frowned at the screen, hastily hit the pause button, muttered something under his breath that made Gree glare at him, rewound the feed, and paused it again.

“Sorry, General,” he said. “It’s just...me and Otto here were watching the feeds, and…well, this came up, sir.” He tapped the play button, and the holofeed jerked to life.

After a moment, the story Crash had paused in the middle of apparently came to a close and the image changed to a young Mirialan woman with a severe haircut, making a report from her desk.

_“—now returning to the situation in the Whitehaven Province, where severe snowstorms have cut off supplies to local villages for almost a month.”_

If the broadcaster hadn’t given it away, the name of the region did; this was coming from Mirial. That explained why the clones assumed she would be interested, though she was still confused as to why they had seemed so urgent about it.

The feed had switched to another Mirialan—male and even younger than the first—looking very uncomfortable where he stood in front of a landing platform in snow up to his mid-shin. “ _Thank you. With recent blizzards rendering the roads impassible and winds in the mountain regions at record-setting intensity, a few dedicated pilots are placing their own lives at risk in order to_ —” He hadn’t been speaking for very long before the feed suddenly paused.

“There!” Crash said, pointing at the screen. “Do you see it?”

Luminara squinted. He was pointing at a ship being loaded in the background. “The dock worker?”

“That’s no dock worker,” Crash said excitedly. He rewound the feed again and played it. “See, she turns around for a second and—”

“ _Barriss!_ ” Luminara was so shocked that she didn’t care about making the outburst in front of her troops.

“I _knew_ it!” Otto crowed. “I knew it was her!”

The third trooper flung an arm around his brother’s neck. “We had to watch it seven times before we were sure,” he said. “And the Commander here said we should tell you about it.”

“Not like we wouldn’t have _anyway_ ,” Crash added pointedly.

Otto folded his hands behind his back. “What should we do, sir?”

Luminara was busy studying the feed. There was someone a few meters away from Barriss, talking to one of the locals. Their back was to the camera, but Luminara could just make out the outline of a pair of montrals in the hood of their parka. Ahsoka was still with her. They were both fine.

Belatedly, Luminara realized that they were waiting for her to answer. She looked up and blinked at them. “Do?”

Gree looked at the floor. “There is, um, technically a warrant out for her arrest,” he said. “Sir.”

Crash stirred, having apparently just remembered that he was actually a Republic soldier and probably shouldn’t be quite so excited over seeing Barriss again.

“Commander,” he protested. “She’s just—we can’t! Even if Mirial wasn’t a Separatist world, you want to spend time and resources hunting a—a volunteer aid worker when there’s real enemies we could be fighting? We’re soldiers, sir!”

“The Council said much the same,” murmured Luminara.

Gree set his shoulders. “I am not suggesting a course of action,” he said stiffly. “I’m only pointing out the facts.”

“But _sir_ —”

Luminara held up a hand, and the others stopped arguing to look at her. “I don’t think we can say for sure that it was Barriss,” she said.

“General?” Crash gave her a confused look. “But you just said it was Commander Off— _ow!_ ” He cut off as the other clone from Barriss’ former squad elbowed him in the ribs. “What—oh.”

“One Mirialan woman in the background of a news report from Mirial?” Luminara shook her head. “Hardly conclusive. It could be anyone.”

“And the feed is distorted, too,” Otto added, not quite managing to keep a smile off of his face. “You can barely make her out.”

“What are the odds?” Crash agreed. “You’re right, General. No way that’s Commander Offee. And it’s not like we could do anything even if it was.”

Gree was looking at all of them with a very tired expression. “If you say so, General,” he said, but there was a tight undercurrent to his emotions that made Luminara pause.

“Commander?”

After a slight hesitation, Gree sighed. “I…General,” he said quietly. “I cannot…” He glanced at the frozen holofeed, stared at the image for several long moments, and then sighed again. “No, sir. You’re right. Can’t see that being Commander Offee. I think the boys miss her and they’re jumping at shadows, sir. Sorry to bother you with it.”

“It’s fine, Gree. As you were, gentlemen.” With that, Luminara turned to head back to the bridge. It was nice to know that Barriss was making a difference out there, but Luminara hoped she would be more careful in the future. There was only so much that she could do to protect her.

* * *

* * *

_“...few dedicated pilots are pla—”_

_Click._

_Gotcha._

In a starship floating inert between the stars, a bounty hunter smiled at the frozen holonet feed. _Knew this would pay off eventually_. Offee and her Togruta left clear signs in their wake, and the pattern of places they visited was obvious enough; it was just a question of catching them before they could bounce to the galaxy’s next disaster. It had taken a few months, but Offee had finally been captured on camera.

The bounty hunter shut off the feed and made the short walk to the ship’s cockpit, to set a course for Mirial.

_How fitting._

The bounty hunter’s patience would be well rewarded. Even aside from the considerable reward the Jedi were offering for their pair of runaways, the chance to get one over on a certain bratty Togruta was more than worth it.

This was going to be _fun_.

* * *

* * *

 “There,” Ahsoka said happily as the low thrum of worryingly overtaxed repulsors cut off. “Told you we’d make it.”

Barriss felt lightheaded. “You did say that,” she said weakly. She wasn’t entirely certain they were actually alive, but her frantic, pounding heartbeat suggested they must be. Somehow.

It occurred to her that Ahsoka might be slightly insane.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “You worry too much. It’s just a little wind!”

It was an unpredictable maelstrom of winds topping out at over two hundred and forty kilometers an hour, through which they had navigated while dodging sharp stone peaks and twisting canyons in near-zero visibility. But Ahsoka’s summary was not technically incorrect.

“We’re there?” whimpered a shaky voice from their passenger seat. The volunteer aid worker they were flying out was a local university student who was relieving the current organizer for this region. He’d stopped screaming about an hour ago, and had now turned a very pale shade of green. “Did we die? How did we not die?”

Barriss shot Ahsoka a dry look. “That is an excellent question.”

Ahsoka grinned at her and wiggled her fingers. “Talent, kid.”

He whimpered again. Barriss sighed and decided not to point out that the _kid_ was almost two years older than Ahsoka. With some difficulty, she pried her fingers free of their death-grip on her flight harness, stood shakily, and patted the poor young politics major on the shoulder. “Let’s begin unloading,” she said kindly. “Ahsoka will make sure the ship is still here when we’re finished.”

He squeaked an affirmative, and stumbled out of the cockpit without noticing the way Ahsoka’s head snapped up when Barriss said her name, or the way Barriss stiffened as she realized her mistake. Separatist-controlled Mirial was not the place to give out their names. _Barriss_ might not attract too much attention here—it was hardly a unique name—but paired with a Togruta named Ahsoka, and the Republic surplus ship, and a thousand other little clues, it would be too obvious to ignore.

Unless you were busy vomiting into the snow, like the aid worker was. _Thank the Force for Ahsoka’s piloting skills, I suppose._

Ahsoka looked over her shoulder at the exit for a moment and scoffed. “Shiny.”

“Don’t be rude,” Barriss shot back, and sealed the hatch behind her as she went about unfastening their crates of precious supplies. Vacuum-packed ration bars tied with heating coils instead of string wouldn’t be cause for celebration under normal circumstances, but there was enough here to last a hundred people for at least another week—by which point the storms should have abated. Barriss smiled slightly as she flicked the antigrav on a red crate and staged it over near the bay doors. _And there was even room for a care package._ Nothing special, but the stranded children would have some candies and warm socks.

Their greenhorn aid worker stumbled back inside, frost coating his eyebrows but somewhat steadier on his feet.

“Feeling better?” Barriss asked mildly. He flushed, nodded, and pulled up the hood of his parka.

“Your—your partner has us right on target,” he said. “My scans showed the loading bay the village council wants us to use is fifty yards that way.”

Barriss nodded and unhooked the bright red cable they’d been outfitted with for this mission. She clipped one end to the floor of the shuttle’s cargo bay and began measuring out fifty yards of it.

The young man looked interested. “What’s that for?”

Barriss smiled sweetly at him. “So that when you wander off course, I can pull you back in before you die of hypothermia, and we can try again.” She found the fifty-yard mark and fastened it to his harness. “Put this on. Good luck!”

* * *

Barriss Offee had never been quite this grateful that she’d grown up in the Temple, and not anywhere even remotely resembling the planet of Mirial.

“Heat,” she gasped as she sealed the cockpit behind her, collapsed into the copilot’s chair in a shivering heap, and began fumbling with her boots.

Ahsoka looked over in alarm. “Are you okay?”

“ _F-fine_.” There was snow in her boots. And down her shirt. And everywhere. Barriss took back everything she’d ever said about the austere beauty of her ancestral world. This was a _terrible planet_. And getting rid of the wet freezing sensation in her feet would be so much easier if her fingers weren’t too numb to work the buckles. Finally she flicked her wrist and shoved the mechanism open with the Force, kicking her boots across the room in frustration.

Ahsoka just looked at her.

“He couldn’t figure out how to compensate for the wind?”

Barriss moaned while rubbing her toes.

“You had to make all eight trips on your own, didn’t you?”

“ _You could have helped_ ,” she hissed.

Ahsoka raised her hands defensively. “Hey, someone had to make sure the ship didn’t freeze up! And I’d be even worse out there. At least you _evolved_ for this place.”

Barriss mumbled several unflattering things about evolution and pulled on a pair of dry socks, having determined that she probably didn’t have frostbite. “You’re handling the next delivery.”

“I’m not, actually.”

She looked up, genuinely hurt. Ahsoka had at least _seemed_ concerned a moment ago. This was the first delivery run where she hadn’t insisted on trading off going into the snow, and that was because of the precarious location and the fact that they had a third person to act as Barriss’ spotter. Even if he had turned out to be useless. “What? Why not?”

Ahsoka patted her hand. “Because that was our last run. I already told traffic control. It’s been a month, we really need to get out of here. Someone’s bound to start asking questions soon.”

Barriss initially wanted to protest, but then she rethought it. Ahsoka had a good point. And the last weather forecast said the worst of the storm was over; these people weren’t in danger of starving anymore. “You’re right.” She brightened considerably as a thought occurred to her. “We can find a _desert_ planet next.” Barriss had seen enough snow for one lifetime.

Ahsoka flashed her a sharp-toothed grin. “Whatever you say,” she said casually. “Setting course for Geonosis.”

Barriss shuddered. “Don’t even _joke_ about that.”

“Sorry,” Ahsoka’s lekku stripes darkened as she turned to her control panel. “You’re right. Not funny.”

“Maybe Telos?” Barriss suggested, squeezing Ahsoka’s hand to let her know she was all right. “There are always odd jobs.”

“Could use the credits,” Ahsoka admitted. Mercy missions were only possible if they weren’t starving to death in an inert ship. It was always a delicate balance between a lack of organized military presence, and the chance of being recognized by bounty hunters. But much as they preferred not to draw any kind of attention to themselves, no one ever _did_ seem to bet on a Togruta runt or a petite Mirialan in cage matches if they needed the money.

Though Barriss was rather glad Master Luminara had no way of knowing about that.

“All right.” Barriss sat back in her seat, pulling her parka closer. Lumps of snow fell to the floor. “Try not to kill us.”

“Hey,” Ahsoka protested. “There aren’t any blizzards in space.” She retracted their landing clamps, and the shuttle immediately rose up almost onto the tip of one wing as the crosswind caught it.

Ahsoka leaped for repulsor controls and managed to stabilize them before they could flip over or demolish the village. Barriss raised an eyebrow.

“We’re fine,” Ahsoka insisted. “When it comes to not killing us I’ve got a great track record so far!”

Barriss silently fastened her flight harness. Ahsoka pretended to look offended.

“You just keep thawing,” said Ahsoka. “I’ll get us there.”

Thirty nerve-wracking minutes later, she appeared to be right. Barriss left fingernail-shaped imprints in the arms of her chair, but aside from nicking their starboard wing on an outcropping of snow and possibly triggering an avalanche they had avoided disaster.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Ahsoka was insisting as they finally wrestled free of the atmosphere. “There’s no record of a settlement down there, right? Maybe we buried some trees? They shouldn’t have been growing in an avalanche zone anyway.”

Barriss glanced at her skeptically, then turned back to the navicomputer. It was having difficulty calculating a hyperspace jump—she would remind Ahsoka to take a look at it once they had landed. They should really look into getting an astromech…

An urgent beeping jolted Barriss out of her thoughts.

“What’s that?” Ahsoka asked.

Barriss turned to her control panel and frowned. “It looks like a...distress beacon? It’s very weak.”

Ahsoka looked over and furrowed her brow. “Where’s it coming from?”

“Hold on...” Barriss turned some of the control knobs to boost the reception. “Orbit of the system’s second planet, Mellas. The gas giant.” She supposed that a ship might have lost shields and taken damage in the planet’s ring system. “It’s probably a mining ship.”

“Or smugglers,” Ahsoka added. “Place seems like a good hiding spot.”

“Either way, they need help.” The message was automated, so the ship had likely lost regular communications.

“Agreed,” Ahsoka said, taking the shuttle off course. “Let’s check it out. If they’re smugglers, we’ll make them pay us.”

“Ahsoka!”

“Fine. We’ll ask politely for them to pay us.”

Fifteen minutes and one microjump later, they had reached Mellas. Even as she watched the scanner for a sign of the stricken starship, Barriss couldn’t help but appreciate the planet’s beauty. It was covered in bands of lavender clouds, and had possibly the most extensive asteroid ring system she had seen. Certainly better-looking than the Mirial system’s habitable world.

Ahsoka fiddled with the scanner. “I’m just saying, if they’re smugglers they can afford a few credits for a rescue. There, I think I’ve got ‘em.”

Barriss frowned at the viewport. “It shows up on scanners, but I don’t see—”

The Force screamed _DANGER_ in her mind an instant before a bright purple flash went off nearby in the ring.

“Ahsoka!”

“I see it!”

Barriss held on as Ahsoka took the ship into evasive maneuvers. “What is it?!”

“EMP,” Ahsoka grunted. “Almost disabled us, but I got us out of the—”

That was when a laser bolt seared across their wing.

“I’m starting to think this was a trap,” said Barriss.

“You don’t say,” Ahsoka spat as she dodged the enemy fire. “Pirates?”

“I don’t know.” Barriss studied her readouts and tried not to think about the fact that someone was trying to kill them. “It looks like one contact; a small heavily-armed hunter-killer.”

“Then at least we know it’s not Hondo,” Ahsoka muttered.

“Who?” Barriss asked. If Ahsoka planned to respond outside of gritting her teeth, she was interrupted by another burst of blaster fire on the port side.

“Watch for missiles,” Ahsoka ordered as she locked the wings and aimed for a cluster of small, oddly-shaped asteroids. “Let’s see if they can do _this_.”

It was the Mirial mountain passes all over again. And, once again, Barriss couldn’t complain. Ahsoka was fearless, nowhere near as cautious as a _normal person_ would be even with the Force to guide them, but she knew what she was doing.

Unfortunately, it seemed like their pursuer was just as fearless. Or crazy.

Something exploded as they burst out of the rings having gained almost no ground on their enemy. Ahsoka yanked the controls to the left, climbing and curving in a desperate attempt to maneuver them back into something like cover.

“Too late,” she hissed, dragging them back to starboard as a hail of blaster bolts strafed the exact place they would have been. “This guy’s good.”

Barriss’ console flashed. “Missile lock!”

“Little busy here!”

“Ahsoka!”

Ahsoka had managed to careen wildly back into the ring, but the potshots from deeper in were threatening to force them back out again. “I know! Look, when they launch open the heat vents on the engines and I’ll spin the wings, it should confuse it!”

_“Should?!”_

“What do you want from me?!” Ahsoka shouted. “It was Anakin’s idea, we haven’t gotten a chance to test it yet! _Oh no you don’t!”_

Barriss’ stomach lurched as Ahsoka wrenched the shuttle’s nose directly at the curve of a nearby asteroid, slingshotting around it close enough that she expected to scratch the paint. Blaster fire chased their tail, but didn’t get close enough to damage the shields. Barriss checked the scanners again, and her anxiety wound tighter. The other ship hadn’t launched its missiles. The only logical conclusion was that the pilot wanted them disabled, not destroyed.

“Ahsoka,” she said. “Bounty hunter.”

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

Ahsoka swore under her breath. “Well keep holding on, I’m having trouble shaking this guy—”

The cockpit shook violently as several of the bounty hunter’s shots hit home. “Shields at twenty percent!” Barriss reported. “Don’t let them do that again!”

“Thanks for the advice,” Ahsoka called sarcastically. “I’m doing my best here—”

The whole shuttle lurched as the next shot landed, and the ship made a rattling sound that could not possibly mean anything good.

“What was that?” Barriss asked nervously.

Ahsoka, meanwhile, was staring at the controls like they had personally offended her.

“Did we just lose hyperdrive?” she demanded.

“Ahsoka,” Barriss said as the bounty hunter swept around in front of them

“Did the hyperdrive just fall off this kriffing ship after _one shot?”_

Barriss had three different alarms flashing on her panel. “It got _shot_ off! And I think it goes without saying, but the shields are down!”

“You know what would be nice right now?!” Ahsoka shouted over the wailing alarms. “Some kriffing _laser cannons!”_

“Language!” Barriss shouted back.

“Not the point!” Ahsoka snapped. “I _told_ you we should have taken the ship with guns!”

“It was the principle of it!”

“Great! Why don’t you go outside and try to fight them off with your _principles?!”_

Barriss looked up from her panel to see a whitish orb filling up the viewport. “Ahsoka!”

Ahsoka worked her control panel frantically. “Sorry! I didn’t mean it!”

“ _Ahsoka! Planet!_ ”

Ahsoka barely glanced up before returning to whatever she was punching into the controls. “That’s a moon.”

“Not the point!”

“We’re fine!” There was a slightly manic look in Ahsoka’s eyes. “Please tell me that thing has an atmosphere we can breathe.”

Thankfully the planetary scanner was one of the few things still working. “It does.”

“ _Whew_.” Ahsoka tightened her harness and squeezed the controls slightly, testing what was left of the shuttle’s responses. “Good. Because, uh. This is gonna hurt.”

Barriss looked at the rapidly-growing moon and felt nauseous. “Can you land this thing?”

“Land? Yep. We are pretty definitely going to land.”

Barriss didn’t like the sound of that. “In one piece?”

“I’ll get back to you on that.”

Barriss took that as a sign to tighten her own harness. “Well, at least they’ve stopped firing at us.”

“Only because they know we’re crashing,” Ahsoka muttered.

“ _Crashing?!_ ”

“Crash-landing! We’re fine! We still have repulsors, landing flaps out, auxiliary to forward deflectors… you might want to brace yourself… five...four...three...”

They had actually been slowing down. Ahsoka was managing to hold them level, at the very least, and while they were still coming in far too fast they were at least managing something less than flight speed. It was very nearly as textbook a crash-landing as could reasonably be expected. Except that the bounty hunter lazily following in their smoke trail chose that moment to take one last shot, and blew off half of their starboard wing.

Ahsoka swore loudly as she lost control and the ship smashed into the plain below.

* * *

* * *

 The first thing Ahsoka was aware of after the crash was the sensation of her lekku hanging upside-down. _Everything_ was upside-down, actually—the ship must have flipped before it came to a rest. The straps of their harnesses were the only thing keeping her and Barriss from falling onto the ceiling. Ahsoka opened her eyes and immediately regretted it. At some point the viewports had shattered, and now the air in the cockpit was full of a fine white powder that irritated her eyes, nose, and mouth. And that was _without_ the smoke from the fried controls.

“Barriss?” she said, coughing. “You okay?”

Her response was a weak, pained noise from the copilot’s seat. Ahsoka waved some of the chalky powder away from her face and was relieved to see that Barriss was stirring; pressing a hand to her head, but she didn’t look badly hurt. Her hood and hairtie had slipped off at some point, and the sight of her hair apparently hanging up from her head was bizarre. Barriss coughed, winced, and tried to wipe some of the powder away from her eyes.

Ahsoka wished she could spare a minute to smile at her, but they weren’t out of the woods yet.

She let her training take over, fumbling for the release button on her flight harness and pulling her legs around so she landed in a crouch instead of tumbling down from her chair onto her head. The remnants of the viewports crunched under her feet. Barriss still seemed dazed from the crash, but she released her own harness a few seconds later. Ahsoka caught her shoulder on the way down so she didn’t hit her head on anything else.

A quick check confirmed that their lightsabers were still where they belonged, and then Barriss pushed her toward the cockpit’s exit. The locks were as dead as the rest of the shuttle; Ahsoka shouldered the doors open and gave Barriss a leg up to the docking airlock.

Some bullying and a lightsaber cut later—the shuttle was totalled, no use in worrying about the airlocks now—and they hauled themselves out of the smoking wreck and into an even thicker, more choking cloud of white dust.

Ahsoka pulled one of her own lightsabers out and ignited it, but even with the light from her and Barriss’ weapons she couldn’t see very far. The sun was eclipsed by the massive planet above their heads, leaving very little natural light.

“It’s too much to hope that there’s some kind of settlement on this moon, isn’t it?” Ahsoka asked.

“I think we might be the only living things on this rock,” Barriss replied. “Aside from our pursuer.” She had pulled her hood back up and was covering her nose and mouth with the hand that wasn’t holding a lightsaber.

Ahsoka grimaced. “Well, looks like we’re starving to death.”

Barriss glanced at her. “At least we won’t run out of air this time.”

At that, Ahsoka couldn’t resist looking over at her with a half-grin. “Well,” she said. “That’s a comforting—”

The whine of hunter-killer engines and the lower, concussive impact of landing thrusters interrupted her. The thick cloud, which had just been starting to dissipate as the dust from their crash settled, returned with a vengeance; Ahsoka had to throw an arm in front of her eyes to shield them as the ship kicked up another blast of the dry powder that seemed to make up the entire surface of this moon. If she squinted she could just make out the thrusters’ afterburn nearby.

After a moment the ship had settled, and the sound of the engine cut off.

“The shuttle won’t fly again.” Barriss’ voice was muffled behind her sleeve, but hard and determined. “We need a ship.”

Ahsoka blinked rapidly, trying to get the chalk out of her eyes, and tightened her grip on her lightsaber as she waited for blasterfire from out of the dust. “Whoever it is,” she said, “We can take them.”

But the expected blasterfire never appeared. Instead, a faint, all too familiar _snap-hiss_ echoed from the direction of their enemy’s ship, and a pair of blood-red lightsaber blades appeared in the distance.

Ahsoka’s shoto was in her hand and ignited before she had fully registered it. “Oh no...” she moaned. She didn’t need to see in order to know who was holding those lightsabers, even if their opponent hadn’t chosen that moment to stop shielding her presence in the Force.

“Well, well. What brings you girls all the way out here?” The lightsabers began slowly moving towards them.

“Ahsoka,” Barriss said, her voice an octave higher than normal. “Is that who I think it is?”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka growled. Raising her voice, she called, “Ventress! What do you want?”

She didn’t get an answer—not that she’d expected much of one from _Ventress_. Instead the red lightsabers switched off, and Ahsoka and Barriss were left squinting into flat whiteness. The light of their saber blades reflected blue and green off the powder, making visibility even worse. The dust wasn’t doing great things for Ahsoka’s montral sense either.

Her sense of the Force was a different story. She felt Ventress’ rush from the side before it happened and brought up her guard; the twin red sabers snapped live at the last second as Ventress threw her full weight behind them, forcing Ahsoka back a step. Barriss sidestepped, moving around Ahsoka to flank her attacker, but by the time she moved Ventress had swept clear and leaped back into the dust cloud while Ahsoka stumbled forward.

Barriss didn’t take the time to check on Ahsoka; she’d already moved back-to-back with her, blue blade in a two-handed grip as she watched the dust.

She didn’t have to wait long. This time it was an overhead attack with a single blade; Barriss took half a step back to brace herself in the moment before it landed, and Ahsoka still heard her grunt with the effort.

Ventress laughed from her side of the bladelock. “Who’s your girlfriend, Tano?”

Barriss had better leverage; it gave her enough of an advantage to force Ventress’ blade aside with a snarl, and she was able to meet the next flurry of blows without having to dodge.

Barriss’ blocks and technical saber work were stronger than Ahsoka’s, and this was suddenly a fight she recognized. She crouched and waited for Barriss to disengage, somersaulting over her as she leaped back. Her primary swung at Ventress’ head, forcing her to block. Strength and speed. She and Barriss already knew this dance.

Ventress, unfortunately, wasn’t cooperating. Instead of pressing the attack she spun away again, switching off her lightsabers and sending up another swirl of white powder with the Force. Ahsoka was left coughing and wrong-footed. This wasn’t how Ventress usually fought.

“What game are you playing?” she demanded. “Ventress! Show yourself!”

“I’ve had enough of this,” Barriss muttered behind her. Ahsoka didn’t exactly disagree, but before she could point out that there wasn’t much either of them could do about it the Force swelled, tensed, and flowed sharply out around them, clearing the dust in a matter of seconds. Oh.

Ventress, standing about six meters away with her arms crossed, looked amused as they turned to face her. “I was wondering when you’d think to do that.” She sighed and lit her lightsabers in a lazy twirl, smirking at them. “Well. If that’s how it’s going to be…”

This time they met the rush halfway.

Barriss’ saber was held low, a stab to the gut telegraphed a parsec away, so Ventress’ guard never had a chance of raising in time to block when her opponent suddenly leaped into a spinning kick to the chest. Ahsoka hadn’t even seen it coming; rather than glancing off Ventress’ second saber, her blow to the side hummed through empty air as Ventress hit the ground and rolled, sending up another, smaller puff of chalky dust. She was back on her feet to parry Ahsoka’s next strike, this one aimed at her shoulder; Ahsoka had to duck and leap back to avoid the blows Ventress threw at her in return.

There was no bridge to hinder their movement this time, but all that meant was that Ventress had to work a little harder; the former Sith knew what she was doing. She was maneuvering them around, keeping them caught behind one another so they could only attack one at a time. It kept them both in her line of sight, and she was annoyingly good at it.

They were good too, but they wouldn’t make much headway like this—leaping in and out, trading blows. It would just come down to waiting for someone to get lucky, and that wasn’t a great foundation to stake their lives on. This wasn’t working.

“Barriss!” Ahsoka called, heart leaping into her throat as Ventress suddenly swung both blades in from the side. Her friend didn’t bother trying to get her lightsaber up in time to block, opting to throw herself over the strike instead, very nearly parallel to the blades.

We have to split up, she was going to say, except that Barriss chose that moment to spring from her crouch directly into another vicious flying spin kick, aiming for Ventress’ ribs. This time, Ventress was ready for it. She ducked and sidestepped, using the Force to send Barriss flying into the ground a few meters away following the momentum the kick had already given her.

Before she could move to help Barriss, Ventress was running hard toward Ahsoka, both sabers raised for an overhead blow. Ahsoka raised her lightsabers to meet it, and then suddenly Ventress deactivated both blades, dropping to her knees and using her momentum to slide under Ahsoka’s block. Realizing her error, Ahsoka started to turn before Ventress could—

Too late. Before Ahsoka could do anything else a red lightsaber hissed live at her throat. She could feel the heat of another just behind her neck.

“Don’t move if you don’t want to lose your head,” Ventress rasped next to Ahsoka’s montrals. Ahsoka watched helpless as Barriss sprung to her feet, ready to re-enter the fight, only to freeze when she saw Ahsoka’s predicament. With a sinking sensation in her gut, Ahsoka realized that there was no way Barriss would be able to get to them before she was dead, and she knew Ventress wasn’t bluffing. They had lost.

“Well,” Ventress said smugly. “This has been fun. But I think we’re done here, don’t you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Bedlamsbard for letting us use her original characters, Aleema and Ojeda Syndulla.


	4. Act II Part 2

“Unless you want your friend even shorter than she already is, I suggest you put that down.”

Her quarry’s eyes darted between Asajj and Tano, who stood frozen between Asajj’s lightsaber blades, panting unevenly. Tano’s own lightsabers were still out and humming, but she didn’t dare try anything with them.

Asajj brought the scarlet blades closer together, and her hostage stiffened. “ _Now_.”

Offee’s blade wavered as she finished her threat assessment and came to the only possible conclusion. The blind panic in her eyes—and _that_ had been interesting, Asajj hadn’t expected such an intense reaction—was replaced by bitter, smoldering fury as the blue saber slowly lowered and turned off.

Asajj smiled at her. “Good girl.” She really hadn’t wanted to follow through with the threat; it would mean skipping Tano’s bounty, and with the way Offee was glaring she suspected that she would have had to at least cut off a limb in order to subdue her if Tano died. And to be perfectly honest, it would have been a shame to snuff out the feisty little Togruta so ignominiously.  “Now drop it.”

Offee bared her teeth, but she obeyed.

Asajj switched the lightsaber at the back of Tano’s neck off and clipped it to her belt, keeping the other at her prisoner’s throat. “Yours too...what was it Skywalker used to call you?”

Tano’s grip tightened on her lightsabers. “Don’t you _dare_ , you freak—”

“ _Ah_.” She didn’t burn the little hornhead—not yet—but she let the blade drift just close enough to be a warning. “I’d be more careful if I were you,” Asajj smiled in anticipation of Tano’s response. “ _Snips_.”

Tano actually _growled_ at her, and Asajj laughed softly. Offee was still frozen in place, but Asajj wasn’t taking anything for granted. She never took her eyes off that one; the girl had lived in the Temple and still managed to fool the entire Jedi Order. _Cunning_ didn’t begin to cover it.

Finally, Tano violently threw her sabers to the ground, as though it would change the fact that she was disarmed.

Well, as entertaining as this little reunion had been, she had a job to finish.

Offee jumped as Asajj tossed a leather pouch at her feet. It landed with a dull clunk and a puff of white.

“Open that,” Asajj told her, adjusting her grip to bring Tano more firmly under her control, putting her free arm around the girl’s chest and pinning her roughly against her body. Ignoring Tano’s grunt of protest, she continued. “You’ll find a pair of shock collars inside. Put one on.”

She recoiled at the suggestion. “ _What?_ ”

“Did I stutter?”

For a moment Offee looked _offended_. Then her eyes slid back to Tano, and she drew out one of the plain metal collars. Those things were crude, but powerful enough for Force-sensitives. Her hands shook as she put it in place, and she winced as the contraption tightened around her neck. Asajj didn’t particularly enjoy that; Offee was terrified, and anyone who could pull one over on the Jedi had some measure of respect from her. She just didn’t feel sorry enough to forget that the kid was a Jedi herself, or had been once.

What she knew about Offee from the bounty listing said that getting her under control as soon as possible would be the difference between getting paid for an easy delivery, and floating home in half a dozen pieces.

“You can put your lightsaber in that,” Asajj told her, nodding to the pouch. “Hers, too.”

Somehow, Offee’s glare became even more intense, but she was plainly aware that one wrong move would leave her writhing on the ground in agony. She complied, crossing over to them and kneeling to take the twin sabers from near her friend’s feet. The two Jedi exchanged a look that Ventress couldn’t decipher, though she certainly thought it was intriguing. As soon as the weapons were safely packed away Asajj jerked the pouch out of her hands with the Force.

“There’s a collar for you too, if you cause me any trouble,” she informed Tano. She fastened the pouch to her belt and switched her lightsaber off, jabbing the emitter between Tano’s shoulder blades with a pointed look at Offee. “ _Walk_.”

Even with the lightsaber duel, it was one of her easier captures. Offee was stiff and kept glancing back over her shoulder for her friend, but with Asajj’s saber still at Tano’s back and Offee’s collar control in her free hand neither of them was willing to risk an escape attempt during the short walk to the ship.

“That’s far enough,” she warned Offee as they reached the _Banshee’_ s boarding stairs. She pulled a pair of stun cuffs from an inside pocket and fastened one end around Tano’s left wrist before dragging her over to Offee, who hesitated. Asajj raised an eyebrow, and then Offee held out her arm.

“Is this really necessary?” Offee asked as Asajj slipped the other end of the cuff over her right hand and snapped it closed. She probably meant for the question to sound exasperated, but her voice shook and it ruined the effect.

Asajj looked between their equally indignant glares and smirked. “Well, I would hate for you lovebirds not to be able to hold hands.”

Offee flushed, Tano’s glare intensified, and Asajj rolled her eyes while she shoved them at the stairs. The _Banshee_ ’s stairs were very much designed for a single person at a time. Petty? Yes. But hilarious.

Once they’d managed to navigate their way into the ship without killing themselves—a task that would have been much easier if they weren’t trying to avoid so much as letting the fingers of their bound hands touch—Asajj poked and prodded them toward the cramped cabin that served as her holding cell. They hesitated as she deactivated the ray shield, so Asajj put a hand on each of their backs and shoved them inside.

She turned the ray shield back on while the rogue padawans disentangled themselves, then folded her arms and leaned against the wall. “I’m curious,” she said once they were both sitting on the cell’s bench. “What _are_ you doing here exactly, Tano? The bounty listing was vague about that.”

“So what, you’re a bounty hunter now?” Tano shook her head and sighed. “How the mighty Sith have fallen.”

Asajj didn’t respond to that, but she did twirl Offee’s shock-collar remote between her fingers. Tano blanched and, predictably, shut up.

“Yes,” Asajj said evenly. “And it’s obvious why the Republic _and_ the Jedi are falling over themselves to get your little girlfriend there back. Consorting with traitors and terrorists? Skywalker must be _so_ disappointed in you.”

That seemed to touch a nerve; Tano’s nails dug into the edge of the bench, and she looked like she would be on her feet and yelling in Asajj’s face if she wasn’t tied to her quiet little would-be bomber.

Now that _was_ interesting.

“So what did you do?” she asked, thoroughly enjoying Tano’s frustration. She glanced at Offee. “Keep a few secrets you shouldn’t have?”

Offee’s head shot up. “She wasn’t involved in that!”

“No? And yet here you are, in a stolen Republic ship together.” They had better not bill her for shooting it down. “How’d you manage to talk her into that?”

“She didn’t talk me into anything,” Ahsoka snapped. “I’m the one who decided to go with her. _You’d_ probably let your friends run off into the galaxy alone. Oh, wait!” She snapped her fingers in a mock epiphany. “You don’t have any.”

“Ahsoka, don’t,” Offee muttered.

Her collar controls were still in Asajj’s hand; she briefly considered activating the thing, just for the look on Tano’s face.

“So, what,” she asked instead, giving Tano a skeptical look. “You dropped everything to go run off with this Jedi-traitor, because you _felt like it?”_

Tano looked at her like she was the slimy secretions of a dying Hutt. “She’s my _friend_ , do you know what that means? I wasn’t about to abandon her, not like everyone else did.”

Asajj stiffened, but managed to downplay it so Tano didn’t notice. “You left the Jedi, Skywalker, the Republic, your whole life. For _her?”_

Tano gave a disgusted snort. “I knew you’d never understand.”

Asajj shrugged. “All I need to understand is that the Jedi are going to pay me a small fortune for handing you over.” She pushed off the wall and stretched, smirking as Tano’s fists clenched. “Make yourselves comfortable. I hope your girlfriend isn’t space-sick.”

Tano muttered something under her breath that Asajj didn’t care enough about to listen to as she climbed to the cockpit. She paused to slip the worn pouch containing her prisoners’ lightsabers into a drawer with a secure combination lock—better safe than sorry, and a lightsaber would sell for a lot to the right buyer.

She keyed in the ignition sequence and switched controls to autopilot; there was no traffic in the area to warrant more careful attention. Once the ship had made the jump to hyperspace, she leaned her seat back and put her feet on the controls.

Truth be told, she wasn’t very enthusiastic about collecting on a bounty from the _Jedi_. But then, maybe she wouldn’t have to. Having two rogue Jedi with everything to lose in her brig certainly left Asajj with a lot of options.

* * *

Barriss was trying to work up the courage to link her fingers with Ahsoka’s.

In that moment, it was all she wanted in the galaxy. Ahsoka had fumed for a few minutes once Ventress left them, and the annoyance had lingered; but once the ship took off she had sighed, leaned back, and turned with concern written in her face to ask if Barriss was okay. As if she was the one who’d been held at saberpoint by a madwoman. Ahsoka had even hugged her briefly, although it forced their arms at an awkward angle when they were still bound together.

After all this, Ahsoka asked if she was okay. That comfort, just the lack of blame, was already more than Barriss deserved; even the tiny gesture of brushing her fingers against her friend’s felt _ungrateful_ , a plea for solace and forgiveness she hadn’t _earned_. She was angry with herself for wanting it at all.

_This is all my fault._

What had she been _thinking_ , insisting on a ship without weapons when they were flying into a warzone with a bounty on their heads. It was stupid, idealistic, naive nonsense, and Ahsoka had warned her about it from the beginning. Now they were paying for it. _Ahsoka_ was paying for it. Barriss was the only reason Ahsoka had even left the Temple, if it wasn’t for her—she’d deserved her punishment, she should have accepted it—should have stayed and suffered—and she had surrendered so easily! She’d been so terrified, waiting for one of those red blades to twitch, but she should have at least tried to find some other way. Should have been faster, fought harder to keep Ahsoka safe if nothing else.

But then, was it really a surprise that she’d failed in the end?

_Master, I’m sorry._

Maybe she would be lucky, and Luminara would finally decide to wash her hands of the fallen apprentice who was nothing but a stain on her legacy. Maybe the universe would give Barriss that mercy at least, not to have to look her master in the eyes again after foolishly wasting the last chance Luminara had risked so much to give her.

She had better get used to the cell. She doubted she’d ever see the outside of one again.

“I want to check something,” Ahsoka said, jolting Barriss out of her internal tirade. “Do you mind?”

Barriss shook her head, silently following in Ahsoka’s wake as she took the step and a half necessary to cross their cell and peer at the ventilation shaft. It was too small to fit more than a hand into, but Barriss used the opportunity to step a little closer to Ahsoka. Just enough that their arms brushed lightly.

A guilty pleasure, one she hadn’t earned, but…they couldn’t be more than a few hours from Coruscant, and once they were there she might never have another chance.

They might never see each other again.

It wasn’t a revelation, it was just common sense; no one in their right mind would imprison her anywhere near Ahsoka and they had always known what waited for them if they were captured. It wasn’t some new thought that struck her. It was just that until this moment Barriss hadn’t fully realized what it would mean.

Her breath seemed to be caught somewhere high in her chest.

She might never see Ahsoka again.

Somehow, somehow she had never hated herself more than she did in that moment. Ahsoka had given her everything, _everything_ , had been her single joy in the universe, stayed by her side after Barriss nearly betrayed every principle her friend held dear. She’d given up her life and her future for Barriss, for _nothing_ —she had brought Ahsoka nothing but pain and yet _somehow_ Barriss was selfish enough that she couldn’t bear to lose her.

_You’re all I have._

She stared at Ahsoka, awash in misery, tracing her gaze along her markings, and the thought of being torn away from her was—was—

Ahsoka stumbled back when Barriss kissed her.

Barriss had closed her eyes when she lunged, so she couldn’t see Ahsoka’s initial reaction. She threw her free arm behind Ahsoka’s back and held on for dear life; her other arm was dragged up when Ahsoka’s hands rose awkwardly to frame her face. Barriss had no idea how these things were supposed to work, or if it was supposed to be so _messy_ , but it seemed like Ahsoka was returning it in earnest. She wasn’t certain, she was _not_ enjoying herself, and she didn’t care.

All she was able to care about was that Ahsoka was _there_ , warm and solid and _Ahsoka_.

After a long moment, Ahsoka groaned, which was…possibly a good thing? Barriss didn’t _think_ it sounded negative—but then she started to pull away, and a blinding panic surged in Barriss’ chest so strongly she felt dizzy.

“No,” Barriss gasped into Ahsoka’s mouth, scrambling to cling to her.

Ahsoka looked shell-shocked. “Barriss—”

“Don’t leave me,” Barriss pleaded, burying her face between Ahsoka’s neck and lekku. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not,” Ahsoka promised her, and stepped forward so that Barriss was pressed into the wall.

There should have been panic again.

She should have been afraid, alarmed, confused, at least uncomfortable. All Barriss could feel as Ahsoka leaned into her was overwhelming despair.

What did she _think_ was going to happen?

Where did she think this was going to go when she’d kissed her, how did she expect it to be interpreted, she was so, so incredibly _stupid_ …

It occurred to her, dully, that she could push Ahsoka away—but how could she, what right did she have? And if she did that then Ahsoka would keep her distance, leave a respectful space between them. She couldn’t _bear_ that when she was going to lose her in a few hours anyway so what did it matter in the end? _You started this, Offee._ She’d thrown herself at Ahsoka, practically _begged_ her for this...

And Ahsoka—she’d never hesitated to give Barriss anything she needed.

Never, not once. Ahsoka had given everything only to be dragged down at Barriss’ side, how could she possibly justify refusing her? If this was what Ahsoka wanted, if this was all she asked in return, if it was all that Barriss had to give…

“Barriss? Barriss, you’re scaring me. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

With a strange, stretched-too-thin-and-snapping sensation like coming out of a hyperspace jump and watching the world rush into existence, Barriss finally started registering her senses.

She’d been so resigned to wandering hands and Ahsoka’s mouth on hers again that she’d entirely failed to notice their absence.

Ahsoka had her tucked in the corner of their cell, holding her close and shielding her from the universe. She’d figured out what to do with their linked hands; her arm rested across her stomach so that Barriss’ mirrored it without either of them needing to contort themselves uncomfortably. Barriss’ free hand was limp at her side, where she’d let it fall in her despondent surrender to whatever Ahsoka wanted to do with her; Ahsoka’s was rubbing anxiously over Barriss’ arm, trying to bring her back to reality.

She looked faint with relief when Barriss was finally able to focus her gaze. “Hey,” Ahsoka greeted her. “We’ll be okay.”

It was the moment Barriss had first experienced lightsaber components sliding cleanly into place and sealing, crying out in the Force with how _right_ they were, all over again but magnified. It was countless hours of finding secluded alcoves or quiet corners because if she had a wall at her back no one could whisper or stare behind it; of Ahsoka finding a way to wiggle into those spaces and make them a sanctuary, rather than a fortress. It was…sunlight, and safety, and waking up from the fog to remember even if only briefly that she was _alive_ , it was—

“ _Ahsoka_ ,” she choked, and clutched at her again; but this time when she was held close and her world narrowed to the circle of Ahsoka’s arms it felt _right_.

“You need to _breathe_ ,” Ahsoka begged her.

Barriss _was_ breathing, wasn’t she? She’d never been able to breathe in her life before this moment. Except, no, it was still too high and too fast, ribs too sharp against her lungs; she would have called it sobbing if she’d had the energy to cry. But Ahsoka’s breathing was steadier, deeper, and Barriss was almost able to match it when they rested their foreheads against one another.

The fingers of their bound hands were twined together, and Ahsoka squeezed hers tightly. “It’ll be all right,” she whispered. “I won’t let them separate us. I don’t care what I have to do, I’m staying with you.”

It was an empty promise. There was no possible way for her to follow through with it, and Barriss knew that, and she believed every word.

Ahsoka pressed her safely into the corner, grounding her again; Barriss sighed into Ahsoka’s neck, closed her eyes, and remembered how to breathe.

They stayed like that for what felt like a long time—minutes, hours, Barriss didn’t know what time was anymore—until a voice from the door made them both nearly jump out of their skins.

“I’m sorry. Am I _interrupting_ something?”

* * *

* * *

Lovebird cracks aside, Asajj had definitely not expected to find the two Jedi _quite_ this wrapped up in each other after such a short time.

Offee jumped about a foot in the air as soon as Asajj spoke; the hand grasping Tano’s headtail jerked away so fast it slammed into the wall behind her with an audible _thump_. Tano whipped around and came within inches of hitting Offee in the face with a lek, but unlike her ‘friend’, she just glared instead of blushing like a schoolgirl caught in the process of committing murder.

Asajj smirked and leaned casually against the doorframe. “Oh, don’t stop on my behalf. I can come back in an hour. Or...” she paused to cast a doubtful glance up and down Tano’s body. “Twenty minutes?”

Tano looked furious enough that Asajj wondered if she would try to strangle her with the Force or something equally inadvisable. She raised an eyebrow through several seconds of Tano growling and spluttering incoherently before Tano glanced at Offee and back and finally hissed “What do you _want?”_

“Manners,” Asajj said, smirking as Tano turned to face her and moved away from the back wall. “I could still hand you over to the authorities, you know.”

Tano looked even angrier at that, but Offee was smart enough to catch on to her meaning. “There’s something else you’re planning to do with us?”

“Yeah. She could sell us to the Separatists,” Tano said.

Asajj scowled. She would set the two of them free and turn _herself_ in to the Republic before she did anything her old _master_ would have wanted. Besides—with Dooku dead, the Separatists were as good as done for and she doubted they’d be able to actually pay the bounty they’d promised.  

“As a matter of fact,” she said. “The Jedi and the Separatists aren’t the only ones with bounties on your heads. They aren’t even offering the highest rewards.”

Let _that_ scare them a little. Not that Asajj would ever take up that particular anonymous listing, no matter how much it was worth. She had a very strong suspicion of who had posted it, and she didn't want anything to do with _either_ of the Sith in the galaxy. But Tano and Offee didn’t have to know that. Their imaginations would do just fine with all the slavers and scum who’d like nothing better than a pair of pretty female Jedi.

Offee, at least, seemed to get the gist of the threat. She stared at what appeared to be a random patch of floor and muttered unhappily, “I’ll take the Republic.”

Asajj rolled her eyes when Tano immediately drew her little Mirialan closer in response—were they _holding hands?_ It was a miracle she was the first bounty hunter to pick them up if they were always this predictable.

“You know,” she said, pointing at the intertwined fingers of their bound hands, “that was a _joke.”_

“Is there an actual reason you came back here,” Tano said through clenched teeth, “or do you just want to gloat?”

“My ship, Tano,” Asajj pointed out. “But there is, actually.” She pushed off the doorway and crossed her arms. “I want your help.”

Tano gave her a disgusted sneer. “In what star system do you think I would ever help _you?_ ”

“The one where your girlfriend doesn’t end up in solitary confinement for the rest of her natural life,” she answered bluntly. Offee’s shoulders tightened, and Asajj ignored her in favor of pressing the point. “But if you’re that eager, I’ll make the jump to Coruscant. It’s all the same to me.”

Tano didn’t look convinced, but Offee’s tight grip on her elbow at least held her silent.

“Ahsoka,” she whispered; then, when Tano reluctantly relaxed, they exchanged a look and Offee swallowed. “What kind of help?”

Asajj smiled. She was getting a good idea of who was the smarter of the two, even if Tano did seem a bit more _stable_. “What do you know? A Jedi who can be reasoned with.”

Tano narrowed her eyes again. “ _What kind of help_ , Ventress?”

Asajj shrugged. “A job. I would need at least one partner to pull it off, and you two would do nicely. The payoff would be three times what the Jedi would give me for handing you over.” Maybe even more than the mysterious listing almost certainly put up by Darth Sidious was offering, and with a much lower chance of her winding up dead. “You help me do it and then I let you go, or I turn you over for the reward. Your choice.”

Tano took half a step forward. Asajj didn’t miss the fact that her prisoner was keeping her body between her and Offee, mainly because she wasn’t being remotely subtle about it. It was almost cute. “How do we know you won’t just turn us over anyway?”

Asajj glared at her. “Do you really think I would give the Jedi what they want if I had another option?” It wasn’t just the principle of the thing; she always felt safer as far from Jedi as possible. A bounty was a small price to pay for security if she didn’t need the money to survive. “Besides, when have I ever lied to you?”

Her prisoners looked at each other.

“Uh,” said Tano. “ _All the time?_ ”

“I remember things differently.” Deliberately withholding information, yes. Spying and assorted deceptions, yes. But she had always been _honest_ about the fact that she was lying.

“You’ve tried to kill us!” Offee protested.

Asajj laughed. “If I had wanted to kill you back there, I would have.”

Offee pressed her lips into a thin line. Her newfound confidence would have been more impressive if her free hand wasn’t still shaking. This girl was certifiable. Whatever Tano saw in her, it sure as hell wasn’t her _personality_. “Fine. You’ve tried to kill _Ahsoka_. And my Master.”

Really? Asajj blinked. That was news to her. “Did I? It must not have been very memorable. I’ve tried to kill a lot of Jedi, you see. They blend together.”

Something decidedly un-Jedi-like flashed in Offee’s eyes. “ _Luminara. Unduli._ ”

“Ah.” Now that name was familiar: the arrogant Jedi from the Gunray mission. So Offee owed Tano her master’s life? How _romantic_. That had even been Asajj’s favorite kind of fight—one she’d been winning because some Jedi got cocky. _Looks like Unduli is as disappointing a teacher as she is a duelist._  “Nothing personal. That was war.”

Offee flinched at that. Asajj rolled her eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she told the girl. “I only bother getting revenge on people who interest me. You’re not worth working with the Jedi if I don’t have to. So do we have a deal, or not?”

Another long, meaningful look. Asajj was going to get sick of that _long_ before this flight was over, she knew it.

“We don’t really have a choice, do we?” Tano said glumly.

“No,” Asajj said. “You don’t.”

Tano didn’t spare the time to glare at her, but Asajj could feel the spike of annoyance in the Force. Let her be annoyed, it wasn’t like she could do anything about it.

“But we don’t even know what she wants,” Offee protested. She had a pained, somewhat frantic expression. “I’m not killing anyone, not for _her_. I don’t care if she sells us back to the Republic.”

Tano put her free hand on Offee’s shoulder. “Just a minute ago you were—”

“I know!” Offee snapped, and even Asajj was surprised by her vehemence. “But I’d rather go _back_ than be used to—” She faltered, and her voice turned panicky. “Ahsoka I _can’t_ , not again—”

“Sorry to interrupt the hysterics,” said Asajj. “But I don’t actually need her to kill anyone.” Tano spared her a glance, but seemed too busy holding her girlfriend to bother responding. Asajj took that as an invitation to continue. “I told you. This is about money. Pure and simple. I need you two to infiltrate the target with me and disable the security so I can get what I want. You press a button, I do all the work, and everyone goes home.”

Apparently, even Tano had her moments of intelligence. “What are you not telling us?” she asked suspiciously, taking a step closer. She drew her cuffed left hand around her back to guide Offee behind her.

“What, you don’t trust me?” Asajj placed a hand over her heart in feigned offense. When this brought no response except identical flat looks from her prisoners, even the one who had been just about to have a breakdown, she rolled her eyes again. “Fine. I hope you know something about the defences of Tipoca City.”

It took a moment for the name to register.

 _“Kamino?”_  Tano took a step back, appalled. “You—you want us to help you break into _Kamino?!”_

Asajj raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought you’d defected from the Republic.”

“Well I’m not helping the _Separatists!”_

“We wouldn’t be, actually,” Offee said in a quiet voice.

They both turned to look at her. Well, Asajj turned. Tano tried and almost dislocated her own shoulder before remembering the binders and twisting the opposite direction. Offee glanced up at her... _whatever_ her and Tano were, and shifted uncomfortably.

“It’s not as if…” she started, paused, took a deep breath, and continued more firmly. “Kamino is one of the wealthiest systems in the galaxy thanks to this war. They artificially inflate the price of creating more clone troopers that the citizens of the Republic are funding, they’re actively blocking efforts at diplomacy, they don’t even pay any taxes.” She’d started out quiet, almost hesitant, and Asajj crossed her arms as she watched the kid slowly working herself into a full-on rant. “They’re war profiteers, and the way they treat the clones is just _barbaric!_ People are starving, while Kamino drains the galaxy’s resources to sit on the wealth they’re accumulating from this awful war.”

Asajj nodded appreciatively. “See, Tano? Your girlfriend has a surprising amount of sense.”

Offee glared at the floor again rather than acknowledge her.

“It’s not the same as acting against the Republic,” she muttered. “Kamino has never done anything for any system but itself. You said smugglers could afford to lose a few credits. The Kaminoans are _slavers_.”

That got Tano’s attention. “The clones aren’t—”

“Do you have a _better_ word for it, Ahsoka?”

Asajj cleared her throat pointedly. They could have a lover’s spat over clone rights on the way to a cell on Coruscant if that was what they wanted. She needed an answer.

“Fine,” Ahsoka said. She gave Asajj a suspicious look. “And you’ll let us go, after?”

“Of course,” she answered. “I’ll even drop you on a neutral system with enough of a cut to pick up a shuttle." A _cheap_ shuttle. "And then we never have to see each other again.” She was already looking forward to it.

Ahsoka frowned. “Sounds too good to be true.”

Asajj rolled her eyes. You’d think the kid would have learned by now: skepticism was for people with options. “Well,” she said, leaning on the doorframe with one hand. “If you help me, then yes, I _could_ double-cross you and turn you in for the bounty anyway. Or you could refuse, and then I _will_ sell you to the Republic, and you’ll never know what would have happened.” She nodded pointedly at the real prisoner of value. “But I’m sure that one will have plenty of time to think about it.”

Tano and Offee exchanged another look—oh yeah, that was getting old fast—until finally Ahsoka sighed and nodded. Offee straightened her back and lifted her chin like a martyr about to be executed— _the irony_. “We’ll do it.”

Asajj smiled. “There. Was that so hard?” As a show of good faith, she used the Force to unlock the binders tying them together. They fell to the floor with a clang that made both girls jump.

“Thanks,” Tano said, rubbing her wrist. She glanced at the shock collar on Offee’s neck. “Any chance of—”

“No.” Asajj was never going to trust _her_ without a leash.

“This is a highly unbalanced partnership,” muttered Offee.

 _More like indentured servitude_ , Asajj thought, but in the interest of not having to listen to either of the Jedi rant at her she decided not to say it. She glanced at her chrono and figured she might as well toss her new guests a ration bar. If they were still on Mirial-Whitehaven time they’d start complaining in an hour or so if she didn’t feed them.

“Hey,” Tano said gently behind her as she walked off. “Barriss? You okay?”

 _Ugh_. Then again, they could wait.

* * *

* * *

Ahsoka _hated_ sonic showers.

The ones on big Republic cruisers were fine, that was different. Even the one in their shuttle had been _usable_. It was still annoying—why was everything in the galaxy made with humanoid species as a baseline, anyway? Some people had montrals! But the settings were easy to adjust and if she pulled a rubber band around the base of her montrals it at least stopped the worst of the reverberation. What she would give for a proper water shower.

She glared at the shower control panel while she pulled on her second boot.

If this thing even had more than three settings they must all be broken. The least annoying one had still been way more powerful than Ahsoka would ever use on her own. And for obvious reasons Ventress didn’t keep specialized Togruta headwear around, so she’d had to use her belt to strap a pair of socks on either side of her head. It hadn’t worked very well. Ahsoka’s montrals were still ringing faintly.

 _Whatever_. It wasn’t like they were staying for long.

“Took you long enough,” Ventress said as Ahsoka stepped out of the closet-sized ‘fresher. That must have been her idea of a greeting, because she took down the cell’s ray shield and shoved at Ahsoka’s shoulder as she switched with Barriss. According to Ventress it was too _risky_ having them both walking around at once.

Though considering that Ahsoka had spent half her shower thinking of ways they could overpower her and steal the ship, she couldn’t blame her for being paranoid.

When Barriss tried to squeeze past Ventress, she stopped her with a rough grab at her elbow that made Ahsoka grit her teeth. “Try to be faster than that one. I’ve got better things to do than babysit you.” Barriss didn’t say anything, and after a moment Ventress rolled her eyes and let her pass.

Ahsoka plopped down on the bench as Ventress reactivated the ray shield. Their host kept a suspicious eye on Barriss until the ‘fresher door hissed shut, then leaned back against the wall across from the cell. They stared at each other; Ahsoka doing her best to set her on fire with her eyes, Ventress mostly looking amused.

After a few moments, Ventress raised an eyebrow and nodded after Barriss. “Pretty little thing.”

Ahsoka leapt back to her feet. “Leave her _alone_.”

Ventress smirked. “Well, well. Did I touch a nerve?”

“You…” Ahsoka’s fists clenched. “She— _ugh_.”

While Ventress laughed at her, Ahsoka turned around with a snarl and tried to find something to focus on that would let her ignore the crazy bog witch.

Apparently Barriss had been busy while Ahsoka was trying to figure out how to take a shower without vibrating her entire skull apart. There was practically no floor space in the cell, but she’d managed to squeeze an inflatable mattress into the space and covered it with a mass of fabric that looked like it consisted mainly of laundry.

Ahsoka prodded at a shirt with one foot. “Seriously?”

“What? I don’t exactly _entertain_ very often,” Ventress said from where she leaned against the doorjamb. “I could have let you both sleep on the floor.”

Ahsoka gave her a dubious look. “Tell me this is clean.”

“You really want to know?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Have I ever mentioned that I hate you?”

“Hate?” Ventress raised an eyebrow. “Not very _Jedi_ of you.”

Ahsoka kicked at the pile uselessly. “Yeah, well. You’re one to talk.”

She didn’t look up when Ventress spoke, because she didn’t want to see the smug grin she knew was on her face. “You know, I could almost like you, Tano. The hate’s all from your end.”

“Sure,” Ahsoka scoffed. “You’ve tried to murder me before. A _lot_.”

“It was nothing personal,” she said. “You were a Jedi, I was a Sith. If I had ever gotten you disarmed I would probably have taken you alive. Would have driven Skywalker crazy.” She considered it. “Well. I would have killed you quickly, anyway.”

“Right. That makes it _so_ much better.”

“What can I say?” Ventress shrugged casually. “It’s in the past. New me, and all that.”

“I can’t tell the difference,” muttered Ahsoka.

“Well, you’ve never been the most observant,” Ventress shot back. “You didn’t notice your girlfriend going off the deep end, did you?”

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Ahsoka snapped. Belatedly, she registered the second part. “And she’s not _crazy_ , she was doing just fine before you showed up!”

“Mmm-hmm. She’s cute, I’ll give you that.”

Ahsoka briefly considered throwing a sock at the ray shield. “She’s my friend.”

Ventress snorted. “Is that what they call it in the Jedi Temple? No wonder you two bailed.”

That was too far. Ahsoka still felt like she’d left a part of her soul behind, and there were days when she wanted to go back—to go _home_ —so much it ached. She didn’t regret leaving, neither of them could ever have been happy there, but hearing someone like Asajj Ventress act like it was something they’d given up _easily_ was too much. “You—don’t know _anything_ about us, that has nothing to do with—you didn’t _see_ her, you don’t know what it was like, we’re not...oh just shut up!”

Ventress laughed out loud again. “Is that the best you can do?”

Ahsoka bared her teeth. “Just leave her out of this, or I _swear_ —”

“You’ve never had a talent for knowing when you’re not in a position to make threats either, Tano.” Ventress produced the hated shock collar controller from a pocket and twirled it between two fingers. “You know, I bet we’d be able to hear her screaming from here. The walls aren’t very thick.”

Ahsoka refused to be cowed. _She wouldn’t_. “We already agreed to help you! Why do you have to keep _doing_ that?”

“It’s fun,” Ventress said flatly. “More fun with you, though. Your girlfriend never says anything back. Is she that quiet when you’re—”

_“Get out!”_

Ventress gave her the most mocking look Ahsoka had ever seen. Before she could make any of the incredibly obvious replies to that outburst, the ‘fresher door slid open at the end of the hall.

Ventress, who apparently had the attention span of an eopie, looked up and crossed her arms. “Finally,” she drawled, and turned to jerk her head at Ahsoka. “Back against the wall, Tano. You take one step before the shield closes and I shock her out cold.”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka growled, backing up into the corner. “I get it. You can stop now.”

“Ahsoka?” Barriss looked between them as the barrier fell and she stepped cautiously across the threshold. At least Ventress didn’t push her this time. “Is something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine,” she bit out. Ventress brought the ray shield back up before Barriss even had time to perch on the edge of the bench; Ahsoka didn’t start to relax until the shock-collar control was back in Ventress’ pocket.

“I’d suggest you two get some sleep,” Ventress said. “We’ve got a lot to go over tomorrow. But if you _do_ decide to have a little fun first, try and keep quiet.” She smirked and knocked on the doorframe. “Thin walls.”

_“Ventress!”_

Ahsoka hadn’t fought alongside Anakin and the 501st this long without picking up on a few colorful threats, but she didn’t get a chance to use them. Ventress just winked, waved her fingers at them, and shut the lights off as she walked away.

* * *

Barriss Offee was very qualified to tell when someone was lying about being okay. At least this time she was reasonably certain Ahsoka had just been butting heads with Ventress, but she hoped it wasn’t anything more serious.

“Well,” she said, in an attempt to distract Ahsoka. “She was right about one thing. I’m exhausted.”

She could practically feel Ahsoka’s teeth grinding from across the room. “That miserable— _augh_. You’re right.” With that, Ahsoka flopped down on the makeshift bed. “I think we’ve got...one actual blanket and these pillows.” The pillows were actually their parkas, with the hoods and sleeves wrapped inside, but Barriss didn’t feel any need to point that out.

She cleared her throat. “I can sleep here,” she offered quietly, gesturing to the bench. In the dim red light from the ray shield she was able to make out Ahsoka rolling her eyes.

“Barriss, get over here.”

She couldn’t help but feel relieved as she picked her way over Ahsoka and cleared a space for herself in the nest of Ventress’ clothes. It was, she supposed, better than the bare plastic mattress. There wasn’t much in the way of space, but having someone close always quieted the nightmares. It wasn’t like she hadn’t shared a bed with Ahsoka before.

_That was before you kissed her._

Barriss winced.

She had panicked, that wasn’t the same thing. She should have known better than to act out of fear but...she hadn’t wanted to lose her, she’d been scared, she’d just needed to be as close to Ahsoka as possible. She still didn’t understand the appeal—the whole thing had felt wrong and miserable and sloppy and she hadn’t known what to do with her hands or her _tongue_ —and maybe she’d just seen too many holovids but it was the first thing she’d thought of…

_You would have let her do more than kiss you._

And _that_ , she didn’t need to think about. Ever. Thank the Force that Ahsoka was who she was. She _never_ wanted to experience that kind of rock-bottom worthlessness again.

The corner of a threadbare blanket hit her in the face.

“Okay,” Ahsoka said. “I think it goes this way. There’s an annoying tag on the other end so I turned it around, it got me all mixed up. It’d be easier if there was more light, but...Barriss?”

Barriss pushed the blanket out of her face and craned her neck to look over. “Yes?”

“Are you okay? Did she say anything to you?”

Barriss looked up at the ceiling. Sometimes, she wished that Ahsoka was less perceptive. “Just words.”

There was a pause before Ahsoka sighed and shook the blanket out. “I told her to leave you alone,” she muttered; then, “c’mere.”

Barriss shifted closer so they could share the covers. Ahsoka reached out for her, then seemed to think better of it and just lay down on one side to face her.

“Tell me if she keeps messing with you,” she said. “I’ll make her stop.”

Barriss let out an amused snort. “Really. You’ll _make_ her?”

“Hey,” Ahsoka protested. “You know, me and Luminara almost had her once.”

“ _Master_ Luminara. And she almost killed both of you.” Barriss tried not to shudder. She’d had enough nightmares about _that_ , thank you. “Really, Ahsoka, it doesn’t bother me.”

Ahsoka sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve got to stop giving her ammo. I don’t know why it...” She gave a little laugh that Barriss doubted anyone who didn’t know her would be able to tell was forced. “I mean, who cares if _Ventress_ thinks we’re sleeping together, right?”

“Well,” Barriss said. “We _are_ sleeping together.”

There was an awkward pause.

“Uh,” said Ahsoka. “That was a...joke, right?”

“Yes.”

Ahsoka heaved a sigh of relief. “I was worried for a second there.”

Barriss smiled.

_Barriss? Barriss, you’re scaring me._

She stopped smiling.. “Ahsoka, I’m...sorry.”

Ahsoka pushed herself up on one arm. “For what?”

Barriss swallowed. “Earlier.”

Ahsoka found her elbow again and squeezed reassuringly. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It really isn’t—”

“It’s _okay_ ,” she insisted. “I mean...you know, ask first next time, but you weren’t exactly thinking clearly.”

_Next time._

Barriss’ stomach twisted. Intellectually she knew Ahsoka didn’t expect anything from her, would never think of asking it, but…she’d given her friend very clear signals. She’d only wanted some level of closeness that went beyond what they already had, she hadn’t thought about the implications. It wasn’t Ahsoka’s fault if she assumed there were... _things_ that Barriss at least had an interest in. Which she really, really didn’t. She wanted support, yes, intimacy, yes, but not...that. Not with anyone, not even with Ahsoka.

She frowned slightly.

Warm fingers intertwined with hers. “You still with me?” Ahsoka asked. Barriss patted her hand.

“I’m thinking,” she said.

 _Not even with Ahsoka._ There was something significant about that. Maybe it was just two decades of Jedi teachings rearing their head, but she’d long ago accepted that interpersonal connection was unavoidable without doing herself a great deal of emotional harm. This was something else. Ahsoka was in a different category altogether from any other...options, she supposed. The idea was no less disquieting, but Ahsoka still felt _different_.

Ahsoka moved again, shifting into a more comfortable position. “What are you thinking about?”

Their fingers were still wound together. Barriss ran her fingertips over the back of Ahsoka’s hand, grateful for the small comfort as she took time to collect her thoughts.

“Ahsoka?” she asked finally. Her voice came out smaller than she expected.

“What’s wrong?”

Barriss couldn’t look up at her. She focused on the shades of red flickering over their hands.

“Would…” She paused, swallowed, tried again. “Would you be...happier...if I wasn’t the way I am?”

Ahsoka's face broke into a fond grin. “I like the way you are. I just wish things were easier for you, that’s all.”

Barriss took a deep breath. “That’s not what I meant.” Ahsoka moved as if to sit up, and she squeezed her hand until her friend reluctantly settled back down. “I mean...if I were exactly the way I am, if our feelings and everything else were the same, only I…” She closed her eyes and forced the words out in a rush. ”Wanted you, the way you want me.”

There was silence, except for her heartbeat pounding in her ears. After a long moment, Ahsoka took her hand back. Barriss tried not to cringe. She’d _asked_.

“Ahsoka?” she whispered. The answer was quiet, but immediate.

“Hey.”

She finally looked up. Ahsoka was looking at her strangely, like she was thinking about it with the same level of consideration she would give a question from a Master. Actually, knowing Ahsoka, with a good deal _more_ consideration.

Barriss swallowed hard. “Do you ever wish…?”

Ahsoka closed her eyes for a moment.

“Well,” she said finally. “Then you wouldn’t be exactly the way you are, would you?”

She was telling the truth. She wasn’t just lying to spare her feelings, Barriss could sense it in the Force. She was telling the _truth_ , she was…

Barriss rolled over and fell into Ahsoka’s arms. She was held close immediately, and realized she was silently crying as she curled into Ahsoka’s chest.

“I don’t deserve you,” she whispered.

“Don’t say that.” Ahsoka’s arms tightened around her. “That’s not true.”

 _It is,_ Barriss thought tiredly. She rested her head against Ahsoka’s shoulder and let her eyes drift closed. _I can’t possibly deserve to be this happy_.

* * *

* * *

Ahsoka _never_ woke up first.

She wasn’t even a very heavy sleeper. Somehow, Barriss just always managed to be awake long before she did. By the time Ahsoka stretched and yawned her way out of bed Barriss would already be halfway through a mug of tea or caf, probably running inventory over breakfast if she wasn’t finished already and starting her stretches. It was just a law of the universe. No matter what or how exhausted they both were, Barriss woke up first.

After the insanity of the day before, Ahsoka had expected that to be truer than ever. She’d resigned herself to Ventress’ mockery for sleeping in under the logic that it would _definitely_ be worth it, and she thought she’d find Barriss in the middle of something—probably folding the pile of  laundry just to have something to do.

So even only half awake, it was no small surprise when she slowly became aware of someone small and warm, mind deeply asleep, still pressed against her side.

She tried not to move as she reluctantly opened her eyes, stifled a yawn and prayed the movement wouldn’t jostle Barriss awake. Barriss made a soft noise in her sleep but didn’t wake up, and Ahsoka smiled down at her.

Barriss always held herself so carefully, even when she rested, normally even in her sleep; but right now she was so relaxed it was surreal. Her mantle had half slipped off, leaving a chunk of fluffy hair spilling over her forehead. She just looked so... _peaceful_. You didn’t need to know her half as well as Ahsoka did to realize she was always worrying about _something_. She probably worried in her sleep, too, honestly, but she didn’t look like it now. It almost looked like she was actually _smiling_. Even the shock collar around her neck had ceased to look threatening.

Barriss had one arm curled around her stomach, but the other was almost exactly where she’d left it the night before… for a moment Ahsoka felt lightheaded. If it wasn’t for Barriss still curled up in her arms she would have been certain that whole conversation was a dream. But Barriss’ hand on her chest, only shifted a little from when she’d fallen asleep holding one of Ahsoka’s lekku, said it really had happened.

Actually, it was almost possible…Ahsoka glanced at the sleeping Barriss, holding her breath as she brought up her free hand and brushed a lock of hair out of Barriss’ eyes. Then, very carefully, she tried to link her fingers with the slim green ones resting over her ribs.

Not quite carefully enough. Barriss’ breathing caught slightly as Ahsoka’s hand bumped hers, and she stirred just enough to turn her face into Ahsoka’s shoulder. She gave a long sigh that might have been a yawn, and eyelashes tickled Ahsoka’s collarbone as Barriss slowly blinked awake. There was a pause before she lifted her head, looking up at Ahsoka with wide eyes. The moment they made eye contact Barriss went still; but she wasn’t tense, so Ahsoka didn’t pull back just yet. Barriss mostly looked like she was trying to figure out what she was supposed to say.

Come to think of it, Ahsoka wouldn’t mind knowing that herself.

“Hey,” she said, instead of worrying about it.

Barriss’ cheeks took on that odd, grayish hue that meant she was blushing. “H-hey...hey.” The gray tinge intensified as she dropped her head slightly, trying to find somewhere to look that wasn’t Ahsoka. For a minute Ahsoka almost worried, but Barriss wound their fingers together properly even while she couldn’t quite look at her, so she figured they were still okay. Ducking her head made Barriss’ rumpled mantle even more obvious and she didn’t have a hand free, so Ahsoka reached up to fix it for her.

As soon as Ahsoka touched her, Barriss looked back up, shock and surprise mingled in her expression. Now it was Ahsoka’s turn to blush. She should have known better, she knew how private hair was for Mirialans. For Barriss to even let her see it was a gesture of trust, how could she have gone to touch it without asking?

She started to pull her hand back, only to stop when Barriss shook her head slightly. Ahsoka furrowed her brow, confused, and then Barriss reached up to gently guide Ahsoka’s hand back onto her head and use it to push the mantle completely off. Barriss’ expression shifted to one that was almost...inviting. Nervous and hopeful at the same time.

Moving very, _very_ slowly, Ahsoka let her fingers slip into Barriss’ hair and ran them back along her scalp.

It felt _nice_. Softer than she had expected, more like satin than fur. Ahsoka could count the number of times she had touched hair on one hand, and never like _this_.

She didn’t need to ask what it felt like for Barriss, even as curious as she was. That first touch, Ahsoka had been afraid she’d done something wrong, because Barriss had taken in a long, slow breath through her teeth like she was hurt. She leaned into Ahsoka’s hand, though, not away, and when Ahsoka went to run her fingers through Barriss’ hair a second time she smiled, and her eyes rolled back a little before they drifted closed.

Ahsoka was pretty sure humanoids couldn’t purr, but Barriss sure seemed like she was trying. Her presence in the Force felt…not scared, but very small and almost delicate, like a tooka kitten. Like doing this, letting _Ahsoka_ do this, was big enough to hurt her but wasn’t, or hadn’t yet. And she felt _happy_ despite the vulnerability. Calm, content. Her breathing was slow and steady enough it could almost pass for meditation, at a glance.

After a few minutes, Ahsoka finally pulled her hand back. Barriss stayed still for several long moments before taking a deep breath and opening her eyes.

“I.” She cleared her throat, sat up, and brushed imaginary lint off her sleeves. “No one but Master Luminara has brushed my hair since...I don’t remember. Maybe never. Thank you.” She looked up shyly. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Um,” said Ahsoka. “No. No, no. Definitely not.” Uncomfortable was not the word she would use.

Barriss blushed faintly again, pulling her mantle back up with twice the fumbling it usually took. “That’s good,” she told the wall. “I should…put the mattress away, I think…”

Ahsoka frowned and sat up. “Barriss? Are you okay?”

Barriss hesitated and shook her head sharply—not like she was saying no, more like like she was trying to clear her head, but Ahsoka still leaned forward just in case. After a moment Barriss looked up smiling; embarrassed, but not upset, so that was good.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry, Ahsoka, this is...strange to me, I don’t really know…”

“Yeah,” agreed Ahsoka. “Me neither. Are we gonna die if you come over here for five minutes, though?” She grinned with minimal fang to take any sting out of the teasing.

Barriss rolled her eyes, but she also relaxed and stopped wringing Ventress’ socks between her hands, so Ahsoka counted it as a victory. “No,” she sighed. “I suppose not.” She tried to act like she was indulging Ahsoka, but it didn’t take a Master to see how readily Barriss curled into her side again. Ahsoka felt vaguely proud of herself. She must be doing something right.

She offered Barriss the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her waist, and felt a quiet wave of pleasure from her as their fingers wound together again.

It would have been nice if the moment had lasted. The thud of someone jumping down a ladder had Ahsoka yanking her hand back hastily, but Barriss’ head was still tucked against her shoulder when Ventress brought down the ray shield. She stood in the doorway staring blankly at them for a few moments, then one corner of her mouth turned up.

“I see _someone’s_ having a good morning.”

“Take a walk out an airlock,” Ahsoka muttered. She felt Barriss go tense against her, and Ahsoka felt like punching Ventress for that alone.

“What?” Ventress put a hand over her heart. “You’re not enjoying my hospitality?”

“Four stars,” she retorted with a forced, cheerful smile. “But the staff is terrible.”

“I’ll make sure to pass along your complaints,” said Ventress.

“See if we ever do business here again.”

Barriss disentangled herself from Ahsoka, sat up and brushed herself off. “If you two are finished?”

Ventress smirked. “Well. Her mood’s certainly improved.” She made an exaggerated gesture at the hallway. “After you.”

Ahsoka wasn’t exactly comfortable walking even the handful of steps to the ship’s cramped galley with an armed Ventress at their backs, but slid into the crescent-shaped booth around the table without complaining.

Ventress sprawled across the bench opposite them and pressed a control on the side of the table, bringing up the central holoprojector without further ado. A watery planet ringed with star destroyers flickered badly between them.

“This,” Ventress said patiently, “is Kamino.”

“We know,” said Ahsoka.

The display zoomed in, dizzyingly fast, and brought up a red-outlined area of several kilometers.

“And this is Tipoca City.”

“We _know_ ,” said Ahsoka. “We _were_ part of the GAR, you know.”

Ventress smiled innocently, which was disturbing. “Did they teach you to sit through a briefing?”

Barriss sighed. “I thought you’d _met_ her master.”

Ahsoka adopted a look of mock-hurt and playfully nudged Barriss with her elbow. Two sarcastic comments in as many minutes; Ventress was right about Barriss' mood, even if she was wrong about the cause of it.

“That's nice,” said Ventress, and the sweet patience thankfully vanished. “ _Shut up._ ” The display zoomed in again, the red outline of Tipoca City vanishing to be replaced by translucent schematics of a handful of buildings. “This is the only part of the plan the two of you need to know. Your entry point is—”

“Whoa, hold on,” Ahsoka protested. “There’s an entire _blockade_ of Republic ships in orbit, what makes you think you’ll even be able to land?”

“Land?”

“ _Get to the surface_ , you know what I meant!”

The smirk was back. Ventress leaned forward and patted her hand.

“That doesn’t involve you, does it, Jedi?”

Ahsoka glared. “It does if we get shot out of the sky.”

Ventress shrugged, unconcerned. “You’ll just have to trust me. Any more questions?”

Barriss raised her hand. Ventress ignored her.

“This is your entry point,” she repeated. A tiny dot appeared on top of one of the Kaminoan towers. “Congratulations, yours is the easy one.” The transparent walls of the buildings vanished, leaving only a series of hallways and what looked like ventilation ducts. Perfect. Always with the ventilation ducts. “All major Kaminoan buildings have evacuation shafts and emergency exits, in case of flooding.”

“Or an attack by a droid army?” Barriss suggested, voice perfectly even.

“Tried that once. Didn’t work.” Ventress pointed to the center of a squat tower several buildings away from their entry point. “This is the security center you’re aiming for. Don’t get clever and try to substitute a closer one. There’s a glitch that shows up in that one's computer, and that’s already more than you need to know.”

“How did _you_ find out all this?”

“She was a _spy_ ,” Barriss reminded her under her breath. Ventress raised an eyebrow, tilted her head in Barriss’ direction, and brought up a second display—this one of a control board. Several buttons and switches flashed in a basic sequence.

“All you have to do,” she said, “Is tell the system to run a full calibration scan of the carrying rails in the facility. That will trigger the systems glitch long enough for me to get what I came for.”

Barriss narrowed her eyes. “And no one will be hurt?” she said sharply.

Ventress shrugged. “There’s no reason for them to be. I’m only intercepting a credit transfer. The security center has a heavy clone presence. I suppose you _could_ slaughter them all, but if you can key in the commands from the evacuation tunnel they’ll never even have to know we were there.”

Barriss seemed unimpressed, to say the least. “And if you run into any?”

Ventress gave that faux-innocent smile again. “Then I promise to be _nice_.”

Ahsoka reached over and pat Barriss’ hand; in response Barriss relaxed a little. Oddly, she found herself actually believing that Ventress would stick to non-lethal measures. She sure hoped she wasn’t just being naive.

“And where will you be?” she asked.

Ventress glanced at where Ahsoka’s hand was resting over Barriss’, and shook her head with an exasperated sigh. “Nowhere important,” she said.

Ahsoka threw her hands in the air. “How are we supposed to work with you on this if we don’t even know what you’re doing?”

“What, afraid I’ll leave you behind?”

Ahsoka faltered. Well, _now_ she was.

Ventress rolled her eyes. “You don’t need to know where I’m putting _my ship_. I’d like to see it again.” She waved a hand. “Besides, you shouldn’t be complaining. I gave you the soft job.”

“Yeah, you did.” Ahsoka stewed on that for a moment before looking at Barriss to see what she thought. Barriss returned Ahsoka’s suspicious look with one of her own.

Barriss leaned forward. “Why are you sending us to do the easy job? Why would you risk yourself over us?”

“I don’t trust you,” Ventress said plainly. “And my entrance isn’t nearly so easy to get to.”

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes at Ventress. “We could handle it. Why do you want us on this side so badly? What are you not telling us?”

Ventress’ already thin patience seemed to have officially worn out. “The maintenance hatch leading to the vulnerable terminal is underwater,” she said, enunciating every word. She reached forward abruptly to grab Barriss’ collar and yank it towards her. Barriss yelped in surprise; Ventress ignored her, fixing Ahsoka with a challenging look. “I never bother paying for a warranty. You decide if you want her a hundred meters under the ocean when we find out how waterproof this _isn’t_.”

She released Barriss, and Ahsoka realized that she was digging her nails into the table. Barriss looked embarrassed, rubbing her neck with one hand and putting the other over Ahsoka’s arm. Ventress made a derisive sound under her breath.

“Fine,” Ahsoka growled. “Let’s just get this over with.”

* * *

* * *

Ventress couldn’t have picked a _nice_ place to make them help her rob, oh no. That wouldn’t have made them all _miserable_ enough.

Something out in the darkness bucked violently, and Ahsoka was smacked in the face by a wall of freezing, salty water that almost dragged her out the _Banshee_ ’s open hatch and into the ocean. Gagging and blinking the burn out of her eyes, she took a step back from the edge.

“Are you gone yet?” Ventress demanded from the cockpit, barely audible over the storm outside.

Ahsoka’s retort was interrupted by a violent flash of lightning, the thunder so close behind there wasn’t time for her to blink before the _CRACK_ made Ahsoka cringe and clutch her montrals. The flash lit up another monster wave just in time for it to break against the nearby support pillar and soak her to the bone. Again.

If Ventress wasn’t careful, one of these things was going to swamp the _Banshee_ completely. _Serve her right._ They had to come in low and shielded to avoid tripping the half-billion sensor nets, but would it really kill them to move maybe two more meters above the roiling ocean?

Barriss, who’d made the jump to their access ladder like stepping off a gunship, shouted something across the gulf.

“What?” Ahsoka shouted back. Another gust of wind shook the ship, tugging them away from the pillar and trying to throw her off-balance.

“I said, these…” The storm made it almost impossible to hear what Barriss was saying, but another bolt of lightning lit her up enough for Ahsoka to try to read her lips. “...made of metal!"

A low, angry peal of thunder, and Ahsoka made a face. Well, _that_ was a comforting thought.

“You’ve got ten seconds before I go down there and push you!” Ventress shouted.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes and jumped.

For a brief, terrifying second, she had no sense of space and thought she had missed the ladder completely. But then she smacked into the slick metal rungs and desperately grabbed ahold of them before she fell off into the sea below. She couldn’t look up at Barriss without getting water in her eyes since _someone_ had buried her goggles in a tangle of smoking metal on some barren moon, but the ladder started shaking under her hands, so she assumed Barriss was climbing and followed her.

The access hatch was located in the middle of what was currently less of a landing platform, and more of a very shallow lake. Ahsoka discovered this by rolling over the edge face-first into cold water, employing some of Anakin’s favorite Huttese swears as she got to her hands and knees. Barriss’ hand under her arm pulled her up, and Ahsoka growled under her breath as they splashed over to the hatch, which was helpfully raised above the rest of the platform so that it wasn’t inundated.

“I assume we can’t just open it,” said Barriss, pitching her voice just loud enough to be heard over the pouring rain.

“Of course not,” Ahsoka griped. “That would be too easy.” Sighing heavily, she set her irritation aside and concentrated on the hatch. “It’s a simple enough dual-alarm system. I think I can keep the first circuit closed if you can open the locking mechanism without sending an alert.”

“Oh,” said Barriss brightly. “Bypass Kaminoan security with my bare hands without the system noticing. Is that all?”

If Ahsoka didn’t know any better, she would almost think Barriss was enjoying this. There was a long, wet pause while Ahsoka concentrated on the intruder alarm before she felt a tiny, precise twist in the Force and the hatch popped open. Barriss kept her eyes closed in concentration as they dropped inside, and didn’t release her hold on the door system until the hatch was actually sealed behind them.

Somehow it was actually colder inside than it was out, and Ahsoka’s teeth started chattering immediately. How the Kaminoans still lived on this planet, she had no idea. From the way Barriss was shivering, Ahsoka didn’t think she was faring any better. They stared at each other, dripping profusely in the sudden quiet.

Ahsoka grinned. “Nice one.”

Barriss squeezed water out of her pants and looked pleased with herself. “Well, it was simple enough. We’ve both done more difficult insertions.”

Barriss worked her soaked hood off from under her shock collar to wring it dry, and Ahsoka couldn’t help but think the way her wet hair was plastered to her head was kind of adorable. Ahsoka glanced away from her, embarrassed. _Time and a place, Tano._

Clearing her throat for no reason, Ahsoka cast around for something productive and fished the battered little holoprojector unit Ventress had given her out of her inside pocket, trying to shake the water out of the controls. “Right,” she said firmly. “So first we have to go down, and then...let me get the map working…”

“We follow the third passage from the top and take the fifth branch to the right,” said Barriss, tilting her head to the side and trying to knock water out of her ear. “First left, straight to the ladder, third level up and a hard right.”

Ahsoka stared at her, then sighed and shook her head, grinning again. “You memorized the map.”

Barriss looked suspiciously like she was trying not to smile. “Of course.”

Ahsoka shoved the recalcitrant holoprojector back into her pocket and made an exaggerated gesture ahead of them. “After you then, Master Offee.”

Barriss had the grace to blush at the title, but didn’t object. Luminara _had_ dubbed her a Knight after all, and it wasn’t like either of them _cared_ that the act had been blatantly heretical.

It wasn’t long before Ahsoka’s hands and knees were raw from crawling through the low access tunnels, but after a while she had at least mostly dried out. If this was how high-stakes heists usually went, Ahsoka was going to have serious words with the holovid industry. The biggest danger they’d run into by the time they crawled into their first left turn was the risk of getting bored and careless, which would lead them to make mistakes. That, and Barriss had hit her head on a ladder.

“Where are we now?” Ahsoka whispered. She couldn’t tell from behind, but she was pretty sure Barriss rolled her eyes.

“Fifty meters closer than the last time you asked me,” she answered quietly. “I only know the evacuation tunnels.”

“How much further?”

Barriss shot a look over her shoulder. “We’ll get to the next ladder when we reach it, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka sighed and was about to crawl around one of the access hatches in the floor of the tunnel when a blinking blue light caught her eye. It was attached to a little metal box along the sealing mechanism—the same kind of high-grade, hair-trigger alarm that had given them trouble coming in.

She frowned.

“Barriss,” she said.

Barriss, already several meters further along the tunnel, replied in an irritated whisper. “I don’t know how far it is to the ladder! I only memorized the turns!”

“Not that!” Ahsoka gestured at the lock. “Look at this.”

Barriss crawled reluctantly back to her. “It’s a locking mechanism, Ahsoka. Come on, we need to find the security control room.”

“But why is it here?” Ahsoka insisted. “These are flood evacuation routes. It doesn’t make any sense for this to be locked from the inside.”

Barriss’ gaze sharpened. She still looked impatient, but her expression was more calculating as she examined the lock. “Maybe there’s a way of opening it from below as well?” she said. “Why does it matter?”

Ahsoka flashed her most convincing grin. “No idea. Let’s find out.”

Barriss frowned. “But the plan...”

Ahsoka snorted. “Really? _Ventress_ ’ plan? Come on, Barriss.”

“Well...” Barriss gave a long glance at the lock. “I suppose we do have a little wiggle room.” She held out her hand; after a moment, the indicator light on the lock turned green and the hatch unsealed with a faint hiss. Ahsoka pushed it open, spotted the distance, and jumped down.

* * *

Barriss landed on the chamber floor just as the Kaminoan administrator was reaching for a large red button that could not possibly be beneficial to them if pushed.

 _“That’s not necessary_ ,” she said, louder than she intended and with a much harder twist in the Force than a mind trick generally called for. The Kaminoan hesitated. He, or she, or they—Kaminoans weren’t very sexually dimorphic—was not a clone. This would be considerably harder than last time.

“Intruders,” the Kaminoan said uncertainly—male, judging from the voice. “I should inform…”

“We’re Jedi on a routine inspection of the facility,” Barriss informed him, pressing on his mind with the Force again. “It’s nothing noteworthy. You were sent a message this morning that we would be here. You must have forgotten.”

“Jedi,” the Kaminoan repeated. Then he frowned. “Jedi aren’t allowed to be in here!” His hand descended toward the call button again.

Ahsoka’s quick thinking saved them. “You’re right!” she said quickly. Her fingers twitched, but it wasn’t a mind trick; the controlled push knocked the clerk’s hand away from the button, buying Ahsoka just enough time to begin the true suggestion _before_ alarms started sounding.

 _Oh, Ahsoka,_ Barriss thought _, don’t say this is a drill, that never works._ Even if it did, she didn’t think she could bear the shame.

Ahsoka’s hand wavered in front of the Kaminoan’s...well, chest, but she had eye contact and that was what really mattered. “It’s ridiculous that they’re letting Jedi in here,” she said, focusing intently on the clerk. “Your superiors just don’t respect your position. It’s insulting. If they’re not going to let you do your job properly, _you might as well go home.”_

Her voice shifted at the last direction, shoving at the Kaminoan’s mind with what Barriss knew was all the conviction Ahsoka was capable of. She just wasn’t certain it was enough, and held her breath as the Kaminoan stared down at them.

“I....might as well go home,” he said finally, “If they’re going to interfere with my job. I shouldn’t have to work like this.”

“Definitely not,” Ahsoka agreed. “You go, we’ll lock up behind you.”

“Yes,” said the Kaminoan, and then he walked out.

“Nicely done,” Barriss said once he left.

Ahsoka looked pleased with herself. “Thanks! Where are we?”

Barriss shrugged. “You’re the one who wanted to explore.” The room they were in wasn’t large; actually it was downright cramped, having room for only one computer bank. With their luck, it was probably Sewage Overflow Control or something equally mundane.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes and dropped into the bowl chair at the control panel. “Seal the door, will you? I don’t know how many more spontaneous vacations I’ve got in me.”

Barriss glanced at her chronometer and winced, but walked over and jammed the door controls anyway. They had at the absolute most ten minutes before they needed to move.

“Hey, Barriss, do you read Kaminoan?”

She sighed. “I only speak a few languages fluently, Ahsoka. Anything important should have a translation option. If you can’t understand it, it’s probably not worth—”

“ _Whoa_.”

Barriss turned around and gasped quietly. She couldn’t help herself.

The back wall of the room was gone. Well, not _gone_. But what had once been an opaque white surface like everything else in Tipoca City had become transparent, presumably at the push of a button. This tiny, unassuming little cubbyhole looked out over a massive facility that stretched further above their heads than Barriss could see, filled with gleaming metal tracks and hovering droids buzzing in and around little clear bell jars containing…

“Clones,” she whispered, crossing to stand in front of the window.

“And these little guys are just embryos,” Ahsoka said, pointing out the line of jars inching past closest to them. “It’s so weird thinking about how people like Rex and Cody came from this place. You’d think it’d make them all...cold.”

“It really is a factory,” Barriss said, feeling faintly ill. A factory making slave soldiers. “An assembly line. What _is_ this place?”

“Well,” said Ahsoka. “I’m gonna go with _cloning facility?_ Oh hey, what’s that?” A tiny, unassuming robot arm in front of their window had swung up as the little embryo jars made their way past. It had five miniature needles at the ends of its branching arm, and as they watched, the needles were extended slowly toward the jar until they slid through. The needles jabbed the embryos, then were gently pulled back, and the arm folded down again as it waited for the next five to be brought into position.

Barriss swallowed and took a deep breath. “It must be some kind of medical procedure. Vaccinations, perhaps? Or it may be taking tissue samples or running some form of test to ensure the embryos are healthy.” The Kaminoan display didn’t make any more sense to her than it would to Ahsoka, but maybe the readouts would include diagrams—or, even better, be in Basic, which was a much more common medical language.

“Why aren’t Jedi allowed in here?” Ahsoka said. “It doesn’t look like anything out of the ordinary.”

Barriss furrowed her brow and thought while she tried to work out the user interface. “Protecting trade secrets?”

Ahsoka snorted. “Don’t tell me you’re accusing the Council of corporate espionage,” she said teasingly.

Barriss smiled faintly. “No, that I _would_ put past them. Ah!” She had managed to find the language option, and with another press the indecipherable scribbles of Kaminoan script shifted to familiar aurebesh.

Ahsoka leaned over her shoulder. “Great!” she said. “I have no idea what that says.”

“Hush,” Barriss told her, distracted. “Let me…no, this is the injector controls…” Several minutes of clicking through calibration menus ensued before she was able to navigate back to what seemed to be a startup menu. “Half of these are machinery fine-tuning, you’d have a better chance of understanding them...internal climate control...carry-rail adjustment ‘section 3249J-17’...there’s nothing here about test results _or_ vaccinations… and this must be mechanical again, though I don’t know why it’s in this subsection, it’s something about control-chip interfacing—Ahsoka, this is pointless, we need to go…”

Ahsoka suddenly leaned in, one of her lekku brushing Barriss’ shoulder. “Control-chips? Like what killed Tup?”

Barriss recalled the incident vaguely—Ahsoka had told her about it when it happened, though she had been too distracted at the time to remember details. A flaw in an aggression-inhibitor in the clones had led to the death of Master Tiplar and two clones under Ahsoka's command.

“I...suppose it could be,” she said slowly. It would certainly explain why Jedi weren’t permitted in the room. “But we don’t know anything about those chips. If they’re meant to be aggression inhibitors I can’t imagine this level of secrecy surrounding them…”

“Yeah.” Ahsoka’s voice had turned hard. “ _If_ they’re aggression inhibitors. Fives didn’t think so.”

Barriss hesitated. She was the last person with the right to point out that Fives had been highly unstable and paranoid at the time, but they were already well behind schedule on a plan that didn’t allow for much in the way of timing adjustments. “Ahsoka, we really need…”

“Ventress can _wait_ ,” Ahsoka said, her face setting stubbornly. “This is more important. Can you see what’s on the chips?”

Barriss stepped aside to give her access to the control panel, and Ahsoka stared intently at the series of menus, mouthing subheadings to herself and tapping and scrolling back and forth between screens; Barriss couldn’t follow her train of thought, but Ahsoka certainly seemed to know what she was looking for.

“It will probably be encoded,” Barriss hedged.

“It was, I’m looking for a summary.” Barriss was trying to work out how to tell Ahsoka that in all likelihood something that secretive would have been deleted when the screen flashed again and a holodisplay brought up several flat white projections, each marked with a number and covered in extremely small but perfectly clear black type. Just glancing through the paragraphs made Barriss’ head ache; it was like reading tax code. But it was definitely in Basic.

Barriss squinted at the nearest display. “Contingency Order Four?” she said. “This reads like a programming manual. Something about….succession protocols.”

Ahsoka bared her teeth. “This _is_ a programming manual. They lied to us!”

Barriss couldn’t disagree. “Well,” she said, scanning the next contingency order. “I think we just discovered the secret to the legendary effectiveness of Kamino’s training programs.”

“All the protocols are programmed into their brains?” Ahsoka looked hurt. “But—they do train, they put in so much effort—that can’t just be for show. They’re proud of it…”

Barriss squeezed her hand gently. “They can’t program real loyalty.” That was, honestly, questionable—these protocols looked incredibly subtle—but it was what Ahsoka needed to hear, and she herself would believe it until shown incontrovertible evidence otherwise. She trusted the troopers, and she respected them too much to believe their courage was anything but genuine. “And they can’t program creativity, either. These just look like...effective ways of relaying complicated orders quickly. Nothing more than that.”

Ahsoka scowled. “Then why didn’t they want us knowing about them? What’s so secret here that they would lie to the Council _and_ the Chancellor about it?” Frustrated, she tapped a random file but didn’t read it. Barriss tried to decipher the summary at the top; what little she could translate into normal Basic made her blood run cold. Summary execution of civilian prisoners if ‘extenuating circumstances’ applied, built into the control-chip…

“Some of these protocols are...” Barriss’ lip curled. “Barbaric. Even the Council would never authorize them.”

“When Tup killed Master Tiplar,” Ahsoka said hesitantly, “It was like...he didn’t even know what he was doing. Like he didn’t have a choice. He didn’t remember it after.”

“That might have been due to it malfunctioning,” Barriss said. Tup’s chip _had_ definitely malfunctioned, and surely there couldn’t be a protocol to murder your commanding officer for him to follow. Even the appalling ones made _sense_.

Ahsoka drew Barriss’ attention to the file she was reading. “Hold on, look at this one. Order Sixty-Five, it’s about launching a coup against the Chancellor. You don’t think they could be planning to take over, do you?”

Barriss frowned. “The _clones?”_

“The Kaminoans.”

Barriss shook her head. “That’s ridiculous, the galaxy wouldn’t stand for it.”

Ahsoka didn’t look entirely convinced, but rather than argue further she swiped Contingency Protocol 65 closed. “You’re right, we’re wasting time. I mean.” She made a disgusted gesture at the computer bank. “Someone needs to stop them, but we can’t do it today. Maybe we can get a message to the Council that they’ve been lied to about these things. Come on, let’s go flip Ventress’ switch and get off this stupid planet.”

Barriss barely registered Ahsoka’s words. When Ahsoka had closed Protocol 65, she had accidentally opened the next one in the list. Barriss found herself unable to look away from the file, even though she couldn’t quite make out the words. Something about it just felt so _familiar_ , so _right_ , like something she had dreamed or…

“Barriss? What’s wrong? What are you looking at?” Ahsoka’s voice was distant and distorted, like Barriss was hearing it through water.

_The mission...complete the mission, complete your orders, follow your orders like a good…_

She was vaguely aware of Ahsoka moving next to her. “Order Sixty-Six?”

Barriss was falling through an endless void, didn’t know which way was up or down, but she knew she had to do it, there was something she had to do and it was the right thing...

“Barriss? _Barriss!”_

Ahsoka shook her by the shoulder, and Barriss jolted like she had been woken from sleep. She blinked at Ahsoka, the light in the room suddenly seeming harsh. Why did Ahsoka look so worried?

 _“What did you just say?”_ There was a high, almost panicky edge to Ahsoka’s voice.

“I...” Barriss frowned, realizing she had developed a headache. “I didn’t say anything.”

Ahsoka went pale. “Good soldiers follow orders,” she said, her voice shaking. “That’s what you were just saying, that’s what Tup kept saying and he didn’t remember either!”

Barriss rubbed her temples. “That...doesn’t make sense, I don’t have one of these chips, why would I respond...” And only to that particular order, which she still hadn’t even read.

Ahsoka’s eyes widened. “ _That’s_ what you’ve been saying in your sleep,” she said, pressing her hands to her mouth. “I didn’t connect it because I thought you were just having nightmares about the war and I couldn’t make out what you were saying but _that was it!”_

Barriss had plenty of nightmares, but Ahsoka’s words cut a path through the fog that had descended in her mind. That’s what had felt so familiar just now: it was the same feeling she got from the recurring nightmare she’d been having for years now, the one that the Twi’lek refugee child had awoken her from months ago.

Barriss hugged herself. What was _wrong_ with her? She tried to read the contingency again, and now that she was expecting the effect it had on her she found it was much weaker than she’d thought before, trivially easy to resist. That was reassuring.

Her relief didn’t last long.

“Ahsoka,” she whispered. “ _Ahsoka_. Read this.”

She turned to Ahsoka and saw that the color had already drained from her face. “Fives was right,” Ahsoka breathed, shocked. “He wasn’t crazy, he _knew_ , and they killed him. That medical _creep_ , I bet she was in on it...”

Barriss forced herself to swallow. “It’s only a contingency,” she said. Her voice shook. “There’s over a hundred of them. There’s no reason to think it would ever be _used_ …someone would have to order it anyway...”

“Fives said there was a conspiracy.” Bitter anger warred with fear in Ahsoka’s eyes. “There’s plenty of people who’d be happy to see us all die. He said he’d discovered a plot against the Jedi and here it is!”

Before Barriss could think of a response to that, the room was filled with a blue light and the all too familiar _snap-hiss_ of a lightsaber igniting. Barriss and Ahsoka whirled towards the door as one, and were confronted by a woman Barriss had hoped never to see again.

“Barriss Offee,” Master Shaak Tiannounced with iron in her voice. “Padawan Tano. You are under arrest.”

* * *

* * *

Ahsoka had thought she had seen Master Ti angry before. She had been wrong. 

“Master Ti,” Barriss said in a tiny voice.

Ahsoka backed up against the console, thoroughly intimidated. “How did you know we were here?”

Master Ti gave her a disappointed look. “Your mind tricks were not as effective as you thought. The technician you diverted reported your presence to me.”

Ahsoka swore under her breath, feeling very stupid. She had been proud of herself for that performance, too.

“Lay down your weapons and surrender,” Master Ti ordered them coolly.

Ahsoka swallowed and slowly reached towards her belt, only for her fingers to brush against empty air. Oh, right. Ventress still had their lightsabers locked up on her ship. “We...don’t have weapons, Master Ti.”

Shaak Ti lowered her lightsaber slightly and gave Ahsoka a look that made her want to melt into the back wall. “And yet you, at least, were armed when you left the Temple, Padawan Tano.”

Ahsoka could feel her heart thumping in her chest. _Keep your cool, Tano_. “I...misplaced my lightsabers.”

Shaak Ti gave an unconvinced hum, grip shifting ever so slightly on her saber hilt. “Is that so.” She glanced sharply at Barriss before returning her attention to Ahsoka. “I couldn’t believe you would actually come here until I saw it for myself. I don’t know what you could possibly be trying to do, but I intend to find out. You are coming with me. _Now_.”

“There’s something you need to know,” Ahsoka said quickly. She could see a personal guard arrayed just outside the door, ready to move into the room if Master Ti moved another step away from the door and let them pass; all the troopers were armed and she could make out a pair of binders on one of their belts.

Master Ti’s eyes narrowed. “And what is that?”

“The Kaminoans are lying to you!” That was Barriss, taking half a step forward and only stopping at a warning look and the twitch of Master Ti’s lightsaber. “They’ve been hiding information from the Council, Master. The clones aren’t just trained, they’re being controlled—”

“Even if true, I fail to see how that is relevant to your situation.” Shaak Ti took a breath and was about to say something else when she suddenly faltered, a perplexed expression on her face. “Offee, is that a _shock collar?_ ”

“I…” Barriss wrung her hands together, briefly distracted. “It’s not important. Master, the Jedi _and_ the Republic may be at risk if something isn’t done immediately!”

Master Ti gave Barriss a withering look. “Is that because you found Kamino to be a more acceptable target of sabotage than the Jedi Temple?”

Ahsoka felt Barriss’ shock in the Force like another ice-cold wave to her face. Suddenly pale, Barriss snapped, “The clones are not responsible for the pain of this war, they’ve suffered more than anyone, if _that’s_ what you think of me—”

“ _They have control chips!_ ” Ahsoka had a few choice words for Master Ti as well, but if this room was left empty she figured it’d take about thirty seconds for someone to wipe the terminal and destroy the evidence they’d found. “They’re not aggression inhibitors or whatever they told you. Fives was right, they’re programmed, right from this room! And they didn’t tell us! Something’s not adding up!”

“That incident is behind us.” Ahsoka would have taken a step back at how cold Master Ti’s voice had gone if she had room to. “The loss of Fives and Tup was a tragic accident, to build some conspiracy is to disrespect that loss—”

“Aren’t Jedi not allowed in here?” As surreal as the entire situation was, Barriss interrupting a Jedi Master seemed the most bizarre. “That’s what the technician told us, doesn’t that make you think they’re hiding something from you?”

Master Ti looked taken aback at Barriss’ question, but after a moment she looked a little more uncertain. “I was not aware of this room’s existence until a few moments ago...and I do not believe you are in any place to be asking me questions, Barriss Offee.”

Ahsoka felt something drop in the pit of her stomach. Her skin crawled, and she shivered, wrapping her arms around her body. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to bolt out of the room, regardless of Master Ti or the clones outside.

Barriss continued on oblivious of Ahsoka’s distress. “You have to realize something is wrong. We found the evidence here, on this terminal, the chips are real and I believe they may impair decision-making when activated, they’re—they’re worse than slave collars, and coupled with the evidence from Fives’ breakdown they represent a real threat—Master, someone could order them to kill us!”

“What?” Shaak Ti looked incredulous and shook her head. “Offee, you are raving. If there is any truth to your claims we will find it, _after_ you have been taken into custody. Now, _stand down_.”

“Master, please, it’s right here, just let us _show_ you—”

“They’ve covered it up before,” Ahsoka insisted, shoving aside her dread and focusing. “There was never a _parasite_ , they just didn’t want us to analyze the chips!”

“That is _enough_.” Master Ti silenced Barriss’ protests with a look. “I will examine the terminal myself, and both of you will surrender and be escorted back to the Temple.”

The clone standing in the doorway behind Master Ti tilted his head to the side, the telltale sign of an incoming transmission. Ahsoka could only assume he was calling for backup, or else was hearing that someone had found Ventress. She glanced up at the open evacuation hatch. They might be able to make it, just barely...

Master Ti noticed her glance. “I am giving you the chance to come quietly, Padawan—”

And then the clone raised his rifle and fired three shots into Shaak Ti’s back.


End file.
